


Like a Flower to the Sun

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Nonverbal Communication, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:22:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 53,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: Merle's little brother was born blind and deaf.  Their parents never sent the younger Dixon to school and they did nothing to try and teach him.  After they were both gone, Merle took care of Daryl the best he could.  During a health scare, he realizes that he needs Daryl to learn to be independent in case Merle doesn't make it.  In a search for help, Merle meets Rick Grimes, an English Lit teacher at the local Deaf College who just happens to be starting a sabbatical.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Comments: 485
Kudos: 439





	1. That Guilt Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my next long fic!
> 
> Here's the scoop- I have 17 chapters written (currently at 32,800 words so far) and anticipate completion at Chapter 25.  
> Major thanks to my ever-present beta and friend LOTR58. She was the one to come up with this "Helen Keller" idea and has been with me every step of the way as it's been written.
> 
> This was originally mostly going to be a Rickyl fic, but as it's grown, it turns out that it's also a buddy fic with Rick and Merle. 
> 
> If you are a fan of good brother Merle who still has his gruff edges, I'm hoping you'll enjoy this one! Buckle in and enjoy the ride!

“Ball Cancer?” Merle barked. “Are you shittin’ me?”

Saddiq leaned back against the counter in the small office, pressing his palms against the laminate top. Merle knew he tended to make people nervous. He was tall and broad and intimidating. Hell, he was intimidating this damn doctor while wearing nothing but a paper gown and an unpleasant scowl! He liked keeping people on edge like that. Liked having the control. But having fucking ball cancer was most decidedly well out of his realm of control.

“That’s not the scientific term,” Saddiq responded, “but basically, yes. I’m afraid it’s testicular cancer. The left one.”

Merle got up from the paper-covered table he was sitting on, his heart in his throat at the thought of it -- for more reasons than just hearing the C-word. “Christ the only thing worse than this would be dick cancer,” he mumbled as he ripped off his paper gown right in front of the blushing doctor and reached for his jeans. 

“I can step out for privacy while you change, Mr. Dixon,” the doctor said as he started to reach for the door.

Merle stood up straight, towering over the other man and looking down at him. Shirtless and fly still wide open, he said “A. Don’t EVER call me Mr. Dixon. EVER. And B. If my balls only got a short time to live, I’mma show ‘em to whoever I want. And it’s your lucky day, Doc.”

Once he was buttoned and zipped with his dirt and grass-stained t-shirt back on, he leaned against the table, the sound of the paper cover crinkling against his weight. 

“What’s it mean then?” he asked with a dejected sigh.

“Well,” Saddiq started after he finally looked back up from the floor and made eye contact again. “We’ll need some more tests. If it hasn't spread it can be taken care of by surgically removing the testicle.”

“You’re going to cut off my nuts?!” Merle hollered, his voice echoing through the doctor’s office hallways.

“Well, just the left one remember?” the doctor tried to add over Merle’s booming voice. 

“I thought I’d just have to take a damn Tylenol!” Merle said, raising his voice even more if that was even possible.

The doctor motioned for Merle to keep his voice down which pretty much just made him ramp it up a notch. “I mean...Jesus! Do I at least get to keep my goddamn dick?”

Siddiq rolled his eyes, took the pen from behind his ear, and twirled it nervously. “Your dick will be fine. And as for your...nuts…it will only be one. The one you are left with will function fine. You will be able to have sex, you will be able to climax and orgasm.”

“Is this like an STD thing?” Merle asked, finally lowering his voice.

“No. It’s nothing you did or didn’t do. It’s just...a thing that happens.”

“So...at least it can be cured, right? I don’t have to _‘get my affairs in order’_?” he air quoted.

“Well, if we get it all before anything spreads, you’ve got a good chance to recover just fine.”

“Recover with one nut, though.”

“Well, yeah. But Mr. Dix….I mean Merle, if it _has_ spread outside the testicle it may be more difficult to deal with. We might need to remove the abdominal lymph nodes too -- do some chemo, radiation therapy, or a combination of the three.”

Merle bit at his thumb, ripped off a ragged nail, and spit it on the floor. He was paying out the ass for this appointment so if he wanted to spit nails on the floor he would goddamnit do it.

He grabbed his bike helmet and looked to the doctor. “Am I gonna die?”

“Probably not,” Saddiq said. 

“Probably?” Merle asked, lifting a brow and schooling his face to look angry instead of worried. “I...I got a little brother that needs me.”

“Chances are low, Merle. But it _is_ cancer. And it’s serious. So you can’t miss appointments like you’ve been doing. We need to get this taken care of.”

“Yeah,” Merle said, sounding defeated. 

“The receptionist will set up your next appointment so we can run a few more tests. Your odds are very good,” Saddiq said optimistically. “Don’t worry too much, okay?”

“I ain’t worried about shit,” Merle said as he left the room and then promptly worried like shit about his little brother. It wasn’t an unusual feeling, that stomach twisting ache when he thought about Daryl. His younger brother had always been nothing but a giant worry -- a weight like an anchor at the bottom of his gut. He could still kick himself for loving the kid so damned much. The younger Dixon cried all night and day for years after he was born. Hell, sometimes he still cried all night and day. It should have been easy to not give a shit. Should have been easy to turn 18, climb on his bike, and leave the kid with his piece of shit old man and never look back.

But Merle wasn’t that lucky. He played it hard and dirty on the outside, but he had a big heart and that heart was a giant pain in his ass. Life would be so much easier if he didn’t have to care.

Even though he knew Daryl was just going to be sitting at home in silent darkness waiting for him, he got on his bike and selfishly took the long way home just to get some wind on his face -- to enjoy the speed and the curves up on Old Mountain Road.

He’d have to call Ann maybe, or Rosita. Get a last lay with two balls. But as much as he liked pussy, that wasn’t his main concern. The worry laid deep in his gut like a ball of iron. _Probably_. Probably doesn’t mean definitely. He’s _probably_ going to be okay. What if he’s not? He’d never thought about dying before. What if he died? What would happen to Daryl?

He stopped his bike along the overlook where the local teens would come to make out at night. Hell, he used to be one of those local teens, and as he got off his bike he thought fondly of Sherry and Amber and Frankie and what’s-her-name. And he wondered where they were now...and how many balls their husband’s had. Probably two apiece, lucky bastards. 

He came here sometimes now -- not to screw anymore, hell he was going on 29, getting too long in the tooth to be making out in the front seat of an old Ford truck on a moonlit night. He just came here when he needed some...time to himself. Which he always instantly felt guilty about because what it really meant was time away from Daryl. 

He squinted his eyes at the sun as he got off his bike and leaned against the guardrail looking down at the quarry below. He took out a smoke, covered the wind from his face with a hand as he lit it, and inhaled. “Well, fuck you lungs!” he said as he flicked the match away and blew out a haze of smoke. “Cancer didn’t come for you so it ain’t quittin’ time yet,” he said to himself as he took another drag.

He shook his head, deep in thought, as he blew out the swirl of thick grey smoke. Hershel would be his best bet. He’d been a farm hand for the guy now for ten years. He was a good family man. Asked about Daryl a lot, but Merle was always vague. Didn’t like anyone knowing his private business. Hershel had even met Daryl a couple times when they were out at the chicken coops. Merle implied that Daryl was just slow. He’s still not sure to this day why he said that instead of the truth -- that Daryl was born blind and deaf. 

Maybe because he felt like he was probably competent enough to look after a slow kid, but if someone found out Daryl was goddamn blind and deaf? Would they think Merle was enough? Would they take Daryl away from him? Cause Merle’s seen plenty of movies where kids end up in institutions and those movies never had good endings. No, he wanted Daryl right there with him. Even if he wasn’t the most qualified person to deal with Daryl’s deficiencies. He sure as shit ain’t been that great of a teacher, but how the hell do you teach someone like that? Merle had done the best he could...but even he was starting to realize -- it wasn’t enough.

If the ball cancer got him, he’d have to make plans that didn’t involve an institution or an aging veterinarian who just finally got his own kids out of the house. How embarrassing would it be to ask Hershel to take a 17-year-old kid who doesn’t know how to do a damn thing for himself. Never been to school. Can’t see, hear, talk. Has tantrums ten times a day. Fights baths like you’re trying to kill him. Afraid of strangers. Cries when it rains. Sucks his thumb. Breaks shit for fun. It’s too much to ask. He’d have to think of something else. And fast. He stubbed out his cigarette and got back on his bike, already feeling guilty for leaving Daryl longer than was necessary. That guilt again. Merle wore it like a second layer of skin.


	2. Like Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to LOTR58 for all the brainstorming sessions and chats and excitement over this fic.

Rick heard his classroom door open as he erased the notes he’d written on the chalkboard for the day.

“Rick Grimes.” 

He knew the voice and smiled as he turned around, placing the eraser back on the ledge, and wiping the chalk dust from his hands against his slacks.

“Dr. Monroe,” he smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure this afternoon?” He’d always liked Deanna Monroe. She was a solid, professional, no-nonsense principal but still had a genuine warmth about her.

She sat on the edge of his desk and motioned to the chalk dust on his pants. “Told you I could get you a whiteboard. It’s in the budget,” she smiled.

“I’m old-school,” he responded.

“You’re twenty-seven,” she deadpanned. 

“I’m an old soul,” he laughed as he pulled out his desk chair and offered it to her.

She stood from her spot on the desk but declined the seat. “I just wanted to stop by. Congratulate you on seven years here at the Alexandria School for the Deaf,” she said as she looked around the room.

“Seven years? Already?” Rick asked, legitimately surprised.

“You aren’t bored of it yet? Seven-year-itch?”

Rick finally took a seat in his chair and leaned back. “You know I love working with these kids.”

“And they all love you. And so do we. You’re the best English professor we’ve ever had.”

Rick blushed at the compliment but took it with a nod and smiled.

“Now get the hell out of my building,” Deanna said with a wink and a smile.

“What?”

“Rick, I worry. I don’t want you to get bored or restless or sick of the same old books and poems year after year. The only thing that changes for you is the students.”

“I love getting to work with the new classes that come in. Every new person that reads Robert Frost for the first time is like me getting to read it all over again like it’s the first time.”

“Most teachers are begging me to let them take their sabbaticals at this point. You haven’t said a word.” 

“I don’t need one,” Rick said, standing now. “I need to be here. For these kids.”

“Rick, I will have Reg personally cover your classes for the year. These students will be taken care of. You need to get out of here. Learn something new. Decompress. Write a book. Get a cabin in the mountains and commune with nature...I don’t care what it is. I can’t lose you to the inevitable slow death of boredom.”

Rick sighed. “I don’t know what to do without teaching. It’s who I am, Deanna. You know that.”

“I do know that, Rick. And I’m not going to physically push you out the door. But the semester is over in two weeks and I’m just saying it would be a good time to start your time off. We’ll take care of next year’s students and then you’ll be back with us fresh, reinspired -- ready to stay on with us for the long haul.”

He grabbed his briefcase from below his desk and stood. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course, Rick. I just wanted to put a little bug in your ear.”

“Well, it was more of a bald eagle than a bug,” Rick laughed. “But I get your point.”

Deanna patted him on the elbow. “Have a good evening. We’ll talk more about this before graduation, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rick answered with a dutiful smile.

She closed the door behind her leaving Rick standing there with the strap to his briefcase slung over his shoulder. 

“Damnit,” Rick muttered. He grabbed the keys from his desk and headed out of the room, down the hallway, and out of the building, signing ‘Have a good evening’ to the janitor on his way out. Once outside, he took a quick look back at the school. What the hell would he do for a year without this place?

He popped the trunk of his Jeep Wrangler, tossed his briefcase into the back seat, and hesitated at the driver’s side door. He looked across the street at the nearby watering hole he would often stop at for a drink and made a quick decision. Looking both ways before crossing, he jogged over to Eric’s Tavern.

The bell jingled above the door when he walked in and Eric immediately looked up from his spot behind the bar. “Whisky neat?”

“Yeah. Make it a double,” Rick said as he sat down at the counter and did a quick scan of the room. 

The bartender put Rick’s drink on a napkin and leaned over playfully. “You looking tonight, sweetheart?”

Rick rolled his eyes. “You know I don’t do one-night stands.”

“Well,” Eric said, feigning innocence, “Maybe you’re looking for the ‘One”?”

Rick laughed as he took a drink of his Dewers, feeling the burn as it made its way down his throat to his belly, warming the empty spot that was left at the thought of leaving the college. 

“I’m always looking for the ‘one’,” Rick laughed. Not that he ever expected to find someone at the local gay bar, but it was somewhere to come for company after a long day of work. The place didn’t scream queer other than a small rainbow sticker on the mirror behind the bar. It wasn’t a fancy dance club or anything like they had downtown. It was just a nice, nearby bar with friends. It was like Cheers...but for queers. Rick laughed to himself.

“So what’s with the double?” Eric asked with a raised brow and conspiratorial glance. _Bad day?_ he signed. 

Rick grinned from ear-to-ear. “I love that you and Aaron are trying to learn that, Eric. It means a lot.”

“How did you even get into that?” Eric asked as he went back to slicing lemons. How does someone who can hear get interested in teaching those who can’t?”

“My older sister was born deaf. I learned to sign before I learned to talk. Just seemed a natural fit when I decided to teach that I do it in a place where my knowledge of sign language came in handy.”

Eric nodded as he listened. “Another year’s coming to a close,” he said, more of an observation than anything else. “That have anything to do with your double?”

“You know me too well. I’m already missing them,” Rick said, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “But it’s worse this time.”

“How so?” Eric asked as the door jingled and they both turned to see Paul Rovia, another regular, wave as he walked in and took a seat next to Rick at the bar.

“They’re on my ass to take a sabbatical,” Rick said.

“What’s a sabbatical?” Paul asked as he nodded at Eric for his usual Jack and Coke.

Eric rolled his eyes. “It’s a year off of teaching to like go find yourself or learn something new or make a discovery. Like Indiana Jones when he found The Temple of Doom. That was on sabbatical.”

Rick and Paul both looked at Eric with raised brows. The bartender shrugged. “You know...Aaron’s kinda movie, but I paid attention.”

“Well, anyway,” Rick said, “Yeah, other than the hat and the whip, that’s a sabbatical.”

“So what are you going to do during it?” Paul and Eric both asked in unison.

Rick took another drink. “Haven’t decided if I’m doing it yet.”

“Well, I think you should,” Paul said. “I got two buddies from the old neighborhood who are teachers now. Been doing it ten years and they are miserable. They hate the hours, they hate the kids, they hate the smell of white board markers.”

“He still uses chalk,” Eric said as he stopped working again and leaned against the bar.

“How’d you know that?” Rick asked.

Eric dropped his glance down to the white stains on the tops of Rick’s thighs.

“You know, I think Indiana Jones used a chalkboard, too,” Paul added.

“Of course he did,” a new voice chimed in as Aaron came from the kitchen door and walked towards them, wiping his hands on his apron. “It took place during the Nazi occupation. He wasn’t gonna use a PowerPoint.”

Aaron greeted the customers with a nod and signed “good to see you,” to Rick. 

“Good to see you too, Aaron,” Rick said with a smile. 

“Why are we talking about Harrison Ford? Is it because of his ass?” Aaron asked.

“He does have a nice ass,” Rick said as he held his drink in mock toast to the others and to Harrison Ford’s ass.

“Truth,” Paul added as he took a long sip of his Jack.

“Rick here is going on Sabbatical,” Eric whispered as if it was a secret.

Aaron turned to him, surprised. 

“I’m _thinking_ about going on Sabbatical,” Rick corrected.

“Will you get to use a whip?” Aaron asked.

That night Rick sat on the rocker on his front porch listening to the crickets and looking up at the half-moon. When he was younger he did always fantasize about writing a novel. Maybe he did need the break. All he did was work and go home, grade papers, and go back to work. Other than stops at the Tavern a couple times a week, his days were pretty routine. Maybe he did need to step outside his comfort zone. He expected as much from his students on a daily basis. And how could he teach them to think outside the box if he never left the box himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so excited to see all the enthusiastic comments on the first chapter of this fic! Thank you all so much for taking the time to comment. It's always nice to hear that you guys are enjoying what I've made. I hope you will continue to enjoy!


	3. Playing the Long Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang! Got a few messages about how the Deaf school should have more deaf people and it wasn't realistic for the principal and a teacher to both be hearing. You are all absolutely right. My sincere apologies for not thinking that through! I even have characters I could have used in Connie and Kelly! Dangit!!! But alas, the chap is posted. We don't see Deanna again though so at least we won't have to be reminded of my lack of consideration. And since I'm still writing this, I'm going to try to pull in Connie and Kelly as teachers at the college later on.

Merle walked into Eric’s Tavern and looked around suspiciously before he slid onto one of the barstools. The place was empty except for a couple fellas in one of the booths and a nancy-looking barkeep. He checked his watch. 2:15 on a Tuesday so he expected it to be slow.

“You’re new,” the bartender said as he sauntered over to Merle’s end of the counter. “What brings a tall drink of water like you into our little town?”

Merle scowled, glanced back to the booth of men who he suddenly realized were sitting a little two close, scanned the back of the bar noticing a rainbow sticker on the mirror, and let his eyes land on the bartender’s limp wrist. 

“You gotta be kidding me. This a fag bar?” Merle whispered loudly.

Unfazed Eric responded, “I take it you don’t want that drink then?” 

Merle rolled his eyes then looked out the side window to see the impressive building across the street.

“That the deaf school?” he asked.

Eric leaned closer, elbow on the bar now and clearly unafraid of Merle which frankly pissed him off more than being in a gay bar in the first place.

“You mean that big brick building with the words ‘Alexandria University for the Deaf’ on it? Yeah, that’s the deaf school.”

Merle bit his tongue. It had taken him two weeks to get up the nerve to come looking for help and he was determined to see it through.

“Well, what if I wanted to meet one ‘a them teachers? Where’s there a bar ‘round here they might come to after work?”

Eric turned around, grabbed a beer mug, and pulled the Foster’s draft lever forward until it was filled. He put the drink in front of Merle.

“Because you don’t strike me as a wine kinda guy,” he said after Merle eyed him. “What makes you think this isn’t the kinda bar where they might come after work?”

“Boy, ain’t you afraid a gettin’ your smart ass kicked by an already-annoyed redneck?”

Eric, per his nametag, just shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Probably wouldn’t be the last. Why are you looking for a teacher? You seem to hear just fine. You may not _listen_ well, but your hearing seems fine.”

Merle narrowed his eyes, hating that he actually felt a bit of kinship and respect with this twinky but fearless little asshole. 

“You got balls,” Merle said as he finally relented and took a sip of the offered beer.

“Yup. Two,” Eric responded.

Merle winced at the comment. Jesus Christ, too fucking soon. 

Eric sighed. “One of the teachers comes over here quite a bit. Good friend. He’s not afraid of homophobic rednecks either so if you got questions, he’ll probably answer.”

Merle kept his gaze focused on the school just beyond the window. “Fine. I’ll wait then.”

Eric leaned in and looked out the window with him. “So...why the questions?”

Merle looked back at him. “You are one nosy mother-fucker.”

“I’ve been told,” Eric said with a nod as he reached for a rag and started wiping down the counter. “But school doesn’t let out for another hour and I’m guessing you for a guy that prefers the sound of his own voice over some nice companionable silence.”

Merle took another sip and wiped the foam from his lip with the back of his arm. “My brother’s deaf.”

“Oh,” Eric said with genuine interest. “Has he applied already or is he just thinking about it?”

Merle pointed to Eric’s name tag using his mug. “Eric?”

“Yeah?”

“Do I look like the kinda redneck asshole can afford to send his brother to a fancy fucking college?”

Eric cocked his head to one side as he seemed to give it some genuine thought. “No. But you also don’t seem like the kind that would give a shit about a little brother...so I’m at a loss.”

Merle hunched his shoulders, finally turning his body from the windows to fully face the barkeeper. 

“Could just use some pointers is all.” Before he was forced to continue, because Eric was right, he hated silence, the bell above the door jingled, announcing the entry of a couple new customers. Merle instantly rolled his eyes. All guys. Probably six ball’s worth of them.

“Sorry, Cowboy. Work calls,” Eric said before he walked away. 

Merle glanced back out the window. He had no idea what he expected to get out of this visit. It was a long shot, but he thought maybe he could get some recommendations on how to teach Daryl enough to get by in case he...was left by himself. At the very least, Merle knew he needed to figure out a way to communicate to his little brother that he might not be there forever. There was so much he should have been communicating all this time. Daryl knew so little and Merle recognized that it took his current health scare to spur him into action.

“You’re new.”

Merle startled at the sudden voice behind him and turned to face it’s owner. 

“Jesus Christ!” he said as he leapt off the chair at the unexpected closeness. 

“Actually, my friends call me Paul,” the man said as he slid up on a bar stool. 

Merle squinted at the man and clutched onto his mug like it was a life raft. Was he getting fucking hit on? “I ain’t a queer,” Merle sneered.

“He ain’t a queer!” Paul shouted out to the table of men in the corner and Merle watched the uproar as money exchanged hands.

“Wait a goddamn minute,” Merle bellowed. “Who the hell had money on me being gay?”

“I had ya straight,” Paul said as he lifted his glass, nodded, and walked away.

“Don’t worry, Darlin’” Eric said as he returned to the bar back. “Some people like to play the long shot. So you were saying about your brother?” he asked as if there’d never been any break in their conversation.

“I wasn’t saying anything,” Merle said as he sat back down.

“You were. So he’s deaf and you want some tips?” Eric took the empty mug and refilled it. Merle could respect a bartender who didn’t let an empty sit too long. 

“I need to figure out how to communicate with him.”

“How old is he?”

“Seventeen.”

“Well, you _have_ learned sign language for him haven’t you?”

“‘He doesn’t know sign language,” Merle mumbled into his beer. 

“He’s deaf, seventeen, and doesn’t know sign language?” Eric asked. 

As much as Merle wanted to hate the guy and maybe crack the frosty mug over his stupid head, he had to admit that there was no malice or judgment in the question. It was a valid question.

“S complicated,” Merle answered as movement drew his eye back to the side window.

“School’s out,” Eric said. “That one in the blazer is Rick Grimes. I’m sure he’ll talk to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you saw in my notes above, I take all my comments seriously and hope that you will all continue to comment and call me out when necessary. Again, it was very thoughtless of me to not have Connie and/or Kelly be at the school with Rick last chapter. As I mentioned above, I'll be sure we see them at some point so the deaf community will be represented at the college.
> 
> Huge thanks to AndTheWhales and Antigonesev for their input on this!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chap. We're getting closer to Daryl's debut, but not quite yet. Hang in there! Sorry about the short length of this one. Next chap is much longer and then the chap after that is Daryl!


	4. The Short Version

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've been trying to post Mondays/Thursdays but I forgot what day it was yesterday!

It was the last day of school. Nothing left but graduation in a week and Rick was already questioning his decision about taking a Sabbatical. His loose plan was to work on a book, though he still hadn’t figured out a plot or even any kind of vague idea what it would be about. He jogged across the street to Eric’s. Last day of school was always a Tavern day.

He walked in and immediately headed towards his normal seat at the bar, surprised to see a big, burly stranger sitting there. He opted instead to sit a barstool away from the guy as he wondered whether his gaydar was broken. This guy sure as hell didn’t read as gay in any way, shape, or form.

“Double?” Eric asked.

“You know it, brother,” Rick answered.

“You with the school?” the stranger bellowed.

Rick looked over at him and eyed him up and down, from his muddy shoes to his profound scowl.

“Yeah. English Lit. Who the hell are you?” Rick asked as he took a sip of his drink.

“Told you he wasn’t afraid of cantankerous rednecks,” Eric said, glancing over at Merle as he rinsed out some glasses in the sink.

The redneck was eyeing Rick up, but not in a gay kind of way. More like he was getting ready to be interviewed.

“Name’s Merle. Was just hoping...y’know...for some friendly conversation ‘bout how to communicate with my brother better.”

Rick lifted his eyebrows in interest. “Well, I’m impressed. You don’t seem like the kinda guy that would care much about communicating with family.”

Merle scowled even deeper. “Well, you don’t seem like the kinda guy who likes to take a dick up the ass, yet here we are.”

Rick laughed to himself and took another sip. “Touche.”

“So, let’s say for example, I want to make sure Daryl, that’s my brother, understands that if I disappear it ain’t cause I left him. Like...I want him to understand what death means.”

Rick furrowed his eyes in confusion. “You planning on dying?”

“You planning on getting punched in the face?” Merle asked, Eric snickering in the background.

“No.”

“And I’m not planning on dying, but it still might happen.”

Rick nodded. “I see. So, how old is Daryl?”

“Seventeen,” Eric answered. Merle glared at the bartender in a way that seemed more for show than actual anger.

Rick nodded. “Why can’t you just sign…”

“The kid doesn’t know sign language,” Eric answered.

Merle rolled his eyes but stayed quiet and kept his eyes on Rick, clearly eager for information.

“Well, that’s weird. Why can’t you just write him a no-”

“For fuck’s sake,” Merle interrupted. “He’s blind, too.”

Eric’s movements behind the bar stopped and the bartender leaned into the counter, intrigued at the new information.

Rick sat silently for a moment, mouth hanging open, unsure of how to respond.

“He’s deaf _and_ blind?” Eric asked.

Merle nodded and took a long, slow guzzle of his beer.

“Damn,” Rick said quietly. “How has he been educated so far?”

Merle sighed and then turned completely to face Rick. “Let me give you the short version. Our folks was trash. Our mama died when Daryl was five and the old man was an angry drunk with a temper. Hell, if it weren’t for me noticing, I’m not sure either of them woulda even figured out the kid was deaf and blind in the first place. They never sent him to school. The old man died a couple years back and I been looking after Daryl ever since. All he knows is what I’ve managed to teach him, which ain’t a lot. I got cancer. And if I die, I need him to understand that I haven’t deserted him. And I need to make sure he knows how to survive on a daily basis by himself.”

Rick looked to Eric and then back to Merle. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” Merle muttered. “Don’t want him institutionalized. It’d kill him.”

Suddenly the redneck didn’t seem half as tough and tumble as his looks would lead one to believe. He was just a broken-down desperate brother who was running out of options. Both men drank quietly for a few minutes while Rick organized his thoughts. A young man. Blind and deaf. Didn’t know how to sign or read or write or talk. His heart already ached for this poor kid -- the dark and quiet prison he must be in. It was unbearable to think about. 

“You got any idea at all how to help me?” Merle asked as he stared into his beer.

“It’s not like asking to borrow a cup of sugar, Merle. This is big. Like… _big_. Complicated,” Rick said, ducking his head and trying to get Merle to look at him.

“Ain’t like I don’t know that,” Merle said. He guzzled down the rest of his beer and slammed the empty mug down loud enough that everyone else in the bar turned to look.

“Stupid of me to come. It’s impossible. I know that.” He pulled out a twenty, left it on the bar, and stood to leave. As he walked to the door, Rick called out to him.

“Wait!”

Merle turned around. 

Rick had no idea what he was gonna say until he heard it himself. “I can help. I can teach him.” He saw Eric smiling and nodding out of the corner of his eye. He pulled out a twenty of his own, left it on the counter, and hopped off the stool. “Let me buy you dinner. We can talk more about it.”

As Rick neared Merle, the redneck backed up a few steps, confusion in the curve of his brow.

“You know I ain’t a queer, right?” Merle asked.

Rick rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a _date_ , Merle. I need to know what I’m dealing with before I meet him.”

“You’ll meet him? Thought you’d just give me some pointers, man.”

“I’m not leaving some poor deaf and blind kid alone in the darkness. He needs more than a few tips. He needs to be _taught_ ,” Rick explained as they walked out the door. “I can teach him.”

Once they were settled in the booth at the Alexandria Diner, orders placed and sweet tea’s delivered, Rick took a deep breath. 

“Okay. I’m officially on Sabbatical,” he explained. “I can take Daryl on for the next year as my sole student and my total focus.”

“How much is that gonna cost?” Merle asked. “I ain’t nothing but a farm hand. Ain’t got the kinda money to afford a private tutor. If I did, don’t you think he’d ‘a done been taught by now?” Merle asked, growing agitated. 

Rick was shaking his head before Merle even finished his sentence. “There’s no charge. I’m on Sabbatical.”

Merle narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What the hell is that? A Jew thing?”

Rick’s eyes widened in surprise. He’d never met anyone quite like Merle and he suddenly wasn’t sure what would be more of a challenge over the next year -- teaching Daryl or tolerating Merle.

“It’s a year off from teaching where you still get paid while you take on a personal project.”

“Daryl ain’t a project. He’s a person,” Merle scowled.

“You’re right.” Rick said with a nod, admitting his error in wording immediately. “I’m sorry.”

Their orders, two turkey specials, were served before either spoke again.

“Tell me about Daryl,” Rick said as he draped his napkin over his lap.

Merle had started shoveling turkey into his mouth like it was going to get away if he didn’t eat it fast enough. “Well,” he started, mouth full. “He’s like probably 5’10. Dirty blonde, choppy hair.”

Rick stifled a laugh. “Maybe it would be better if I just ask some specific questions,” he suggested. 

“Shoot, Professor Friendly.”

“Does he have any hobbies?” Rick asked, trying to start out with some easy, simple things.

Merle bounced his head around, back and forth. “Well, he ummm…he likes to collect rocks. That a hobby?”

Rick smiled at that. “Yes. I’d call that a hobby. He finds them in the dirt? Does he seem to enjoy feeling each one?”

Merle shrugged. “I guess. Most a’ them ones he keeps is the smooth ones. Like river rock. Keeps ‘em in a jar.” Merle stopped and looked up from his plate. “Used to be a glass jar till I learned my lesson the hard way after a temper tantrum. In a plastic jar now.”

“Does he have a lot of tantrums?” Rick asked. He’d barely touched his meal, fascinated with Merle’s every word and too deep in thought to bother with food.

“Yeah.”

“That makes sense. He’s frustrated with his limitations. With his inability to communicate his wants and needs. Can you give me an example of something he _does_ know? Maybe how you taught him something?”

Merle took a few more bites of stuffing, adding another forkful to his mouth before the first mouthful was even swallowed. He took a long guzzle of tea. “I taught him about eggs,” Merle answered, finally leaning back and taking a break from inhaling his dinner. 

“How so?”

“Well,” Merle started as he tucked his thumbs into the waist of his jeans. “I let him come with me when I get the eggs from the chickens. I’m a farm hand so’s that’s something I gotta do every day. He’s been helping since he was a kid doin’ that. Like I said, he likes them rocks. The feel of them, I guess, and early on he got hold a’ one a’ them eggs and started taking it to his room like he wanted to save it like a rock. Liked the feel of it I guess.”

Rick nodded and finally took a bite of his turkey as he listened.

“So’s of course there was a fight. I managed to get the egg back from him before it broke. Then I took him to a bowl in the kitchen and held my hands over his and cracked the egg so’s he could feel what happened.”

Rick nodded. “What did he do?”

“Well, he stuck his finger in the bowl and tried to lick it. Had to back hand him ‘fore he got sommenela.”

“You hit him?” Rick asked, eyes widened.

Merle shrugged like it was no big deal. “I guess that’s frowned upon, huh? Old man didn’t teach me many good life skills. Anyway -- So I keep putting my hands over his as I pour the egg into a frying pan and put it on the stove. He backs up cause he knows he ain’t allowed near the stove normally.”

“How’s he know that?”

“Back a’ my hand and quite a few burns,” Merle answered honestly.

“So’s I cooked him up some scrambled eggs and fed him and he ain’t never tried to squirrel away no eggs no more. That’s like learnin’ right?” Merle asked as he grabbed his empty glass and wiggled it at the passing waitress.

“That’s a great example, Merle,” Rick answered. “That’s actually very impressive.”

They both ate in silence for a few more minutes before Rick spoke again. “You really got cancer?”

Merle nodded. “In the nuts, if you can believe it.”

Rick tried not to laugh at Merle’s crass honesty. “Well, as I understand it that kind of cancer is usually very successfully treated.”

Merle nodded. “I know. But it gets you thinking.”

Rick nodded as the waitress stopped by with refills for both of them. 

“Thanks, Sugar,” Merle said with his mouth full.

“Anything else I should know about Daryl before I show up tomorrow morning?” Rick asked.

“Tomorrow morning?” Merle asked, surprised. “Shit man, I ain’t cleaned the house up or nothin’.”

“It doesn’t need to be clean. I’m not there for the house. I’m there for Daryl.”

Merle guzzled the last of the tea before sopping up all the gravy from his plate with the last bit of roll. “He don’t meet many strangers. Actually, he don’t really like people. Had a serious girlfriend I brought home once ta’ meet ‘im. She freaked out when he started touching her; y’know, he ain’t got no other way to see,” Merle explained and Rick nodded his head in understanding. 

“She smacked at him, startled him. My boss, Hershel’s, met Daryl a couple times, but I’m not sure the kid even knew he was there. Only other strangers been friend’s of my old man ‘fore he died and they usually just terrorized him. Picked on him and laughed when they scared him with unexpected swats. Oh yeah and had a Jehovah’s Witness stop by once. When Daryl reached out and realized there was a person outside the door he started kicking and screaming. It did take care of our Jehovah’s Witness problems, though. Anyways, I’m thinking that’s probably gonna be the reception you’ll get.”

Rick nodded again. “I won’t be surprised if it is.” He picked up the bill and laid down some cash.

“Thanks for dinner,” Merle said, his appreciation genuine. “And for coming to talk to Daryl. I know I’m an asshole, so’s I appreciate you overlookin’ that and thinkin’ of my brother.”

They both slid out of the booth and headed for the exit. 

“I’ll be there in the morning,” Rick said. “What’s your address?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the Merle & Rick dynamic. Up next..... DARYL!!!!!!!


	5. On Neutral Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet Daryl!

“Daryl, Goddamnit! Stop it,” Merle hollered, knowing full well that it was pointless to talk, much less raise his voice.

Daryl was naked and pressed up against the far wall of the bathroom moaning out that whine of his like a wounded animal. 

“It’s just a fuckin’ bath!” He put a gentle hand on Daryl’s shoulder and squeezed, then rubbed up and down his bicep, a way he had of trying to calm the kid during tantrums. He could see Daryl’s posture relax a bit. “Need you cleaned up and ready. You don’t know it yet, but you’re startin’ school today.”

Merle reached over and turned off the water running in the tub, then dipped the washcloth in and soaped it up. He reached a hand back out and grabbed Daryl’s, tugging him gently towards the tub. The younger man screamed again, but didn’t pull away as if already he knew he’d lose the fight. He always did. When Merle decided it was a bath day, it was a Goddamn bath day no matter how long it took.

After another twenty minutes he finally had Daryl sitting in the bathwater pouting. Merle handed him the washcloth and Daryl finally relented and started cleaning himself off like he’d been taught. 

Merle sat on the closed toilet seat to supervise. He learned the hard way not to leave after coming back one time to find nearly all the water on the floor instead of in the tub and a sopping Daryl shivering in the corner as if the hamper was able to hide him.

“Don’t know why this has gotta be a fight every time, kiddo,” Merle said as he ran a hand through Daryl’s choppy hair. “And I hate to tell you this but your hair’s getting washed today, too.” 

That was something Merle hadn’t been able to get the kid to do on his own. After he felt Daryl was sufficiently cleaned he gently pushed his head back, dipped it in the water, and then shampooed it up as Daryl slapped at the water in defiance. Usually Merle ended up wetter by the end of these baths than Daryl was. 

When all was said and done, the bath had only taken a little over an hour, which wasn’t bad in comparison to most times. The sun had risen while they were in the bathroom and Merle could still hear the rooster crowing as they walked into the kitchen. 

As he expected, Daryl stomped past the kitchen table, stormed into his room and slammed the door shut behind him. He never could understand why these baths were such a big damn deal.

Merle put a frying pan on the stove and started work on some eggs and bacon, hoping the smell would draw Daryl back out. He wanted him clean and fed before Rick showed up. The teacher seemed to show a genuine interest in Daryl’s circumstances but he didn’t want to take a chance that the kid would appear beyond all help and chase the guy off.

He could hear the plastic tub of rocks being emptied onto the floor in Daryl’s room. Good. He usually got pretty zen after playing with his rocks.

Merle looked around the kitchen and frowned. There were still dishes on the floor from dinner the night before. Daryl had a tendency to take his food and move around instead of sitting still at the kitchen table and eating like a normal human being. Last night he’d taken to eating on the floor as he put a bunch of his rocks in the bed of an old toy truck and moved it around the floor. After the food was done, Merle served it up on two plates. He quickly picked the dirty dishes up from the floor and plopped them in the sink, then stomped on the floor, his signal to Daryl through vibration that it was time to eat. 

Daryl had managed to get dressed in almost matching clothes and he came out of his room like he hadn’t a care in the world, the morning’s fight already in the distant past. He sat down in his normal spot without any issue. Merle figured he must know exactly how many steps it was from one place in the house to the other because he never seemed to lose his footing despite his blindness.

The younger man put one of his rocks on the table and pushed it towards Merle who picked it up and looked at it. “Wow. That one’s pretty, kiddo,” he said as he pushed it back to Daryl’s waiting hand. “Is that your favorite today?” 

Merle tapped on the table next to Daryl’s hand which meant “eat” and he watched, please with himself, as Daryl obediently took a bite of eggs then reached over and rested the palm of his hand against Merle’s throat. It was the only way he could “hear” his brother’s voice, the vibration of his vocal cords, as he spoke. 

“Good boy,” Merle said as Daryl smiled at the vibration. “Need you to be good today. And open-minded, okay?”

Daryl pulled his hand away and picked up his plate, walking towards the front door. “NO,” Merle said as he stood up and steered him back to the table. “No eating outside today. Don’t want us looking like a bunch of hobos to Rick. You sit at the table. Not on the floor, not in your bedroom, and not outside.”

Daryl sat back down without too much fuss and Merle took the young man’s hand and put it against his own throat again. He talked slow and calm, trying to infuse a sense of peace into the kid before all hell broke loose with the introduction of a stranger. “Today is going to be an exciting day, buddy. You’re going to meet Rick Grimes and he’s going to teach you how to communicate so’s when you want things I know what you want. How’s that sound?”

Daryl patted lovingly at Merle’s throat then moved his fingers up to Merle’s lips and rested them there as Merle continued. “It’s gonna be scary. I know. I don’t like strangers neither, but you been alone long enough in that head a’ yours. Shoulda done this ages ago. Knew our folks certainly weren’t gonna worry with ya.”

Daryl silently tried to move his lips the same way his brother’s were moving and it made Merle smile. “You ain’t no dummy. You know how to learn. I see you thinkin’ behind them eyes all the time,” Merle said proudly.

At that Daryl used a bare hand to scoop eggs into his mouth, took a piece of bacon in the other one, and went back to his room. 

“Well,” Merle sighed. “‘Least you took a damn bath.” At the last bite of his own bacon he heard a knock at the screen door and looked over to see Rick Grimes standing there with two suitcases. 

He stood, wiped his hands on his pants, and opened the door. “What the hell’s in the bags?” he asked.

“My clothes,” Rick answered evenly. “You gonna invite me in or what?”

Merle blinked in confusion. “Are you...are you moving in?”

“Merle,” Rick reasoned as he put down his two suitcases. “Daryl is well past the age where learning is easy. He can’t hear, can’t see, can’t talk...he needs 24/7 attention right now. The first few months of working with him are critical and I can’t not be here if he suddenly has a tantrum or a breakthrough. I need to be here.”

Merle held the door open and Rick picked his bags back up and walked inside. Was this guy for real? “I don’t got a spare room,” Merle grumbled.

“I can sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t got no extra blankets.”

“It’s summer. Don’t need any blankets.”

“Ain’t got any extra pillows, neither.”

“I can wad up a jacket.”

Merle watched as Rick put his stuff down by the sofa and looked around the room. “So. Where is he?” Rick asked as if he weren’t terrified of this first meeting. Kudos to him, because Merle was petrified and he knew it showed. If Daryl didn’t connect with the man, spent days doing nothing but screaming if Rick got close, he might lose his only opportunity to help the kid. 

“Maybe we should do the meeting on neutral ground. Outside,” Merle suggested.

“That’s actually a great idea,” Rick said with a nod and he headed back to the screen door in the kitchen. He looked back at Merle with a reassuring smile. “Take your time getting him ready to come out. I know this is an important moment.”

Merle nodded and once Rick was out the door he turned to Daryl’s room and took a deep breath. He knocked hard enough that Daryl would feel the vibrations and then walked in. The boy was sitting in the middle of the floor with his rocks lined up in several different rows by size. He smiled and pointed at his work and Merle ran a hand over the younger man’s still damp hair. 

“Good job, buddy,” he said as he sat down on the floor across from him. He took both Daryl’s hands in his own and squeezed, a way he had of conveying _“it’s going to be okay”_. Since it was a motion he usually used _after_ tantrums instead of before, Daryl’s brows knit in confusion. 

Finally Merle stood, one hand still in Daryl’s and he pulled the boy up to his feet. “Come on, buddy. Time to meet someone new.” 

Daryl followed obediently, his hand gripping tighter in Merle’s, and they walked out the door, Daryl’s face turning up towards the sun as soon as the heat of it touched his face.

Rick burst into a huge smile but remained still, seemingly content at letting Merle lead this thing. 

“This here’s Daryl,” Merle said as he squeezed Daryl’s hand again. He moved their intertwined hands towards Rick and nodded silent instruction for the teacher to place a hand on top of theirs. He did. Slowly and gently just like Merle had hoped, and once it was resting in place, the younger Dixon turned around to face Merle, jaw dropped like his feelings were hurt, and he yanked his hand back with a yelp.

Merle put both hands on Daryl’s biceps to try and center him. He squeezed tight again. _It’s going to be okay._ “Daryl, this is Rick. Rick is nice.” He turned his brother to face Rick again, keeping his hands on Daryl’s arms. “You can try to shake his hand again if you want. Not sure what’s going to happen,” Merle said nervously.

“It’s okay, Merle. We will be taking everything nice and slow. Everything will be at Daryl’s speed, okay?”

Merle nodded, not realizing until that moment how vulnerable with fear he’d been.

Rick reached out and brushed against Daryl’s hand with the back of his own and Daryl jumped again then turned to hug Merle and hide his head in the crook of his older brother’s neck. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. This stranger is nice. This is Rick,” he said, knowing that Daryl would feel the vibrations of his voice against this cheek as he tucked in closer.

Merle reached out for Rick’s hand again and Rick followed his lead and reached back out. Merle rested Rick’s hand on Daryl’s back, then put his own overtop and squeezed. “This is Rick,” Merle said again. He took his hand away, but nodded at Rick to leave his own on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl turned his head to face Rick, a look of disgust on his face over being touched by a stranger. 

Merle took Daryl’s fingers and put them against his lips, drawing the boy’s attention back to him. 

“Rick,” he said several times in a row. Daryl attempted to move his lips in the same motion, mimicking his brother’s movements.

Merle looked up at the teacher who was smiling wide. “He’s remarkable,” Rick said. “I can already tell he’s eager to learn, Merle. You’ve done the right thing coming to me.”

For the first time since his nut cancer reveal he felt a sense of ease. A sense of _it’s all going to be okay_. He’d been caring for his brother since the boy was born, but he was finally, _finally_ , doing right by him. 

He encouraged Daryl to turn back and face Rick head on. Rick’s hand slid from Daryl’s back, down his arm, and held gently onto his hand. “Hi Daryl. Nice to meet you,” the teacher said calmly. 

The breeze rustled the leaves and the sound of whinnies from the horses and coos from morning doves danced on the air like nature's own music. Moments like this always saddened Merle because his brother would never be able to experience it. The bright sun and clear sky. The rolling fields of hay across the dirt road. The sweet sound of nature all around them.

“This is Rick,” Merle said again. 

Daryl took a slow, steady, deep breath, then kicked Rick hard, directly in the right shin and ran back into the house, slamming both doors shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did everyone think?


	6. The Chicken Coop

Rick rubbed at his shin, surprised at how direct a hit Daryl had landed. The kid had an uncanny sense of spatial awareness. He felt certain that the kick wasn’t a fluke. Daryl knew full well where it would land when he did it.

“Fuck man,” Merle was grumbling. “I’m fucking sorry. I knew this was going to be a disaster. Please just give him a chance.”

Rick could tell Merle was not the type of man who was used to groveling and he was surprised the guy allowed Rick to see this side of him. Merle wasn’t half as bad as pretended to be.

“Merle,” Rick said with a laugh as he straightened back up. “I’m not going anywhere. This is going to be hard. This whole thing is going to be hard. I know that. I’m not coming into this thinking I’ll be teaching him geometry by next week.”

Merle stood taller, tried to shake off the look of desperation he surely knew he was wearing. “Guess I just don’t understand why yer doin’ this.”

Rick nodded. It was a legitimate question for someone like Merle to ask. 

“I like to teach. And more than that, I like to _watch_ people learn. I love that look on a kid’s face when something finally clicks.”

“But what’s in it for you?” Merle interrupted. 

Rick shrugged. “Sense of pride that I was the one to break through?”

Merle thought about that for a second and gave the other man a terse nod. “He’s probably locked the door and is leaning against it. Got a key out here to the back door. Let’s head on in and try this again.”

Rick nodded and followed the elder Dixon. He peered in through the window as they walked around the house and sure enough, Daryl was leaning against the kitchen door with his arms folded defiantly, trying to keep them out. 

Rick kept a few steps behind Merle and watched as he walked into the kitchen and stomped on the floor a few feet from Daryl to alert the kid to his presence. Daryl immediately pushed himself up from the door, shoved both hands into Merle’s chest, and pushed him back with a stifled cry.

“I know. You don’t like change,” Merle sighed as Daryl glared at him. 

“Why don’t you just let him do whatever he would normally do and I’ll just observe for a while?” Rick asked.

Merle nodded. “Okay.” He pulled Daryl close for a hug. “Fight’s over, kiddo.”

Daryl stood there for a moment and glanced over to where Rick stood. Somehow the kid knew he was still there and Rick didn’t want to appear as if he was hiding, so he stomped on the ground. Daryl frowned in his direction and stomped off to his room. 

“Hey, at least he didn’t slam the…” and before Merle could finish the sentence Daryl slammed the door. 

Rick took a seat at the kitchen table and looked around at the house. He was surprised to find it fairly clutter-free. To be honest, he expected it to be a bit of a dump, but that was based on his prejudiced ideas of how a backwoods redneck would live. It was clear Merle was no regular backwoods redneck.

“Want some sweet tea or somethin’?” Merle asked.

Rick shook his head. “No. I’m good.” Once Merle sat down too, Rick pointed to Daryl’s room. “He’s expressive. Inquisitive.”

“He’s stubborn as a mule,” Merle replied.

Nodding in agreement, Rick laughed. “That stubbornness will help him when he’s struggling to learn something and simply won’t give up until he gets it.”

“Never thought of it as a positive before,” Merle said as he straightened the salt and pepper shakers. 

“So what do you do with Daryl when you’re working? Is he able to be left alone?”

“I’m okay leaving him alone for a couple hours at a time. I’m always nearby,” Merle said nodding out the window. “Horses is just down at the barn, Chicken coop is out back aways. Fields and fences is all within walking distance. When I leave him I unplug the stove and turn off the water so’s nothin’ happens.”

Rick nodded as he listened.

“Got them baby things on the electric sockets cause I can guarantee you he’d figure out how to stick a fork in ‘em if I’s gone too long.”

As he looked around he saw that every socket was indeed blocked by a plastic cover and all the cupboards had baby locks on them.

Merle saw him taking notice of it.

“He pulled all the dishes out once. Broken pieces everywhere and his feet were so bloody from stumbling through the mess. Still probably see some stains from it in the carpet out in the living room.”

When Rick didn’t say anything Merle continued. “Ain’t figured out how to lock the fridge yet. Came back a few times and found it left open. Tea spilled on the floor. Butter wiped all over the table top,” he said with a laugh. “Not sure what that was about.”

“Merle, you’ve really worked hard to accommodate him as best you could. I mean, I’m not gonna lie. You should have had him working with a teacher years ago, but you were a kid yourself for a big chunk of his life. You love him. And that’s abundantly clear. I think you’re going to be really excited once he’s able to communicate.”

“You really think that’s possible?”

Rick nodded firmly. “Absolutely.” 

Merle spent a few minutes deep in thought. Then he scooted back his chair and stood up. “Maybe we can all walk over to get the eggs together. You can sorta see him doing his normal stuff.”

“Sounds good,” Rick said, standing. “Lead the way.”

Rick noted that Merle knocked loudly enough on the bedroom door that Daryl could likely feel the vibrations through the floor. He watched from the doorway as Merle put a hand on Daryl’s shoulder and tapped it twice. Looking back up at Rick, Merle shrugged.

“For some reason he’s come to understand that two taps on the shoulder means eggs.”

Daryl smiled and got up instantly. Merle had been right in his description. Kid was about 5’10” with choppy blond hair. What he had failed to mention, however, was how blue his eyes were, or how his rare smile lit up the room like the sun itself. He was strikingly beautiful with a pureness and innocence about him that Rick was sure would be there whether or not he was blind and deaf. He found himself smiling just from laying eyes on the kid, from watching him be excited about picking up eggs.

Rick followed the Dixons across a small pasture towards a chicken coop. He looked around at the property. It was a beautiful farm. The main farmhouse was off quite a way in the distance and he covered his eyes from the sun as he squinted over at it. 

“Hershel lives there. He had two girls growin’ up there. They both just recently went off to school and work. He’s a vet...y’know, not the military kind, like the animal doctor kind. Tendin’ to the garden, the horses, the chickens, all that? That was his wife’s thing. She passed and Hershel gave me the job. Knew my old man and I think he felt bad for me. Lets us live in this house over here for nothing and pays me enough to pay the bills and keep us fed.”

“He sounds like a good man,” Rick nodded as they got closer to the chickens. 

Merle put his hand on Daryl’s shoulder and the boy stopped and turned to him. He reached for Merle’s throat and rested his hand there to “listen”. 

“Our new friend Rick is still here, okay? He’s our friend.” Merle turned to Rick. “You ain’t really my friend so don’t get any queer ideas. Just need Daryl to trust you.”

“I promise not to try and seduce you,” Rick said with an eye roll as Merle grabbed his hand and Daryl’s and put them back together like a handshake. 

“Hi, Daryl,” Rick said. “Can you show me how you get eggs?”

Daryl looked back towards Merle confused, but his hand stayed resting in Rick’s. 

Taking the opportunity as it was presenting itself, Rick lifted his other hand to Daryl’s and finger spelled R-I-C-K into the boy’s palm as he said it out loud. Daryl’s blue eyes darted up towards Rick’s then back down at his hand as he slipped it away from the older man’s light grasp. The younger Dixon turned and continued to head towards the chickens.

“That was better than a kick in the shin,” Rick said with a wink. 

“Don’t wink at me,” Merle growled.

Daryl reached the fenced-off coop first and he twisted on the latch, clearly knowing what he was doing. Merle handed him a bucket and stood back with Rick to watch.  
“Could take a little while. He likes pettin’ them chickens. Ain’t never known chickens like to be petted. Might just be cause it’s him. Daryl’s got a way with ‘em.”

Rick watched quietly as Daryl shut the gate behind him and walked in short footsteps, making sure not to step on anyone. He knelt down near the front of the coop as several chickens came over to him. Merle was right. They quite literally seemed to be nudging at Daryl’s hand in search of a touch.

Rick walked closer to the fencing and cocked his head as he watched. Daryl ran gentle fingers over their feathers as he knelt on the ground humming to himself.

“Hmm hm hm hm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm hm hm.”

“Does he do that often? Hum?”

Merle shrugged. “With the chickens. Sometimes when we’re sitting together and he’s bored.”

Rick squatted by the fence, trying to hear Daryl better. 

“Hmm hm hm hm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm hm hm.”

There was a continued cadence to it. A clear repetition and the younger Dixon’s breaths and hums seemed very deliberate. 

Rick turned around and looked back up at Merle. “You listen to music with him?”

Merle nodded. “Sometimes. Put it on real loud and he likes to rest his hands on the speakers. Feel the bass I guess.”

Rick smiled. “I think he’s trying to sing a song that he’s familiar with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this was going to be a long slow burn? 
> 
> Thanks to wisegirrl59 for reminding me to post today! And thanks to everyone for the comments. I'm so hopeful that you all will continue to enjoy this story! There's so much more to come!


	7. An Unintended Egyptian Hieroglyph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out again to LOTR58 who came up with this brilliant idea and helped me brainstorm it! (and is always beta'ing it!

Merle laid on Daryl’s bed, his little brother curled up at his side with his head on Merle’s shoulder and his thumb in his mouth. It was the end of every day for him. Daryl would scream and cry until Merle would lie with him and tell a story while Daryl rested a hand on his throat to feel the vibration. 

It didn’t have to be a great story or anything. Hell, sometimes it was just about an episode of M*A*S*H or Merle literally listing all the items of food that were currently in their refrigerator. Daryl just seemed to like knowing Merle was there, liked to touch the calming timbre of his voice. That had been the case since Daryl was about six years old. He wouldn’t go to sleep without Merle beside him. Ever. And it was going to be hard to explain that to Rick who Merle had left out in the living half an hour ago.

He had to admit, the day had gone smoother than he would have expected. The bath was typical. But Daryl meeting Rick was surprisingly not as overwhelming as he thought it would be. They’d spent a good chunk of time at the chicken coop and then walked along the creek where Rick watched Daryl search for rocks. The teacher took a lot of time throughout the day to talk to Merle too, making him feel very much a part of this process as he explained various ideas he had for ‘opening Daryl’s eyes’.

Normally, Merle would have left Daryl home alone while he tended to the horses that afternoon, but since Rick could supervise him, he allowed them both to come along while he shoveled out the stalls, and fed and brushed all four Tennessee Walkers down. There was a tense moment where Rick suggested Merle should allow his brother to help with the horses. After Merle explained with rather colorful language that Rick hadn’t seen a full on tantrum yet and there was no way Merle could risk Daryl spooking the horses and getting trampled, Rick seemed to understand and relented -- at least for the moment. Merle was pretty certain the battle wasn’t over on that particular topic yet, but Rick allowed him to win the initial skirmish.

Once Merle could hear Daryl’s breathing even out into the steady pattern of a deep sleep, he slipped out of the bed, kissed his brother on the forehead, and left the room. The TV from the living room flickered changing patterns of light against the stark white walls of the house, but he didn’t hear the sound of it. 

“Don’t need to mute it, dumbass,” Merle said as he entered the room and plopped into his favorite recliner. “Ain’t gonna wake him up.”

“You were gone a while,” Rick said. “Thought maybe you were trying to sleep, too.”

“I’m not an animal, Rick. I wouldn’a left ya sittin’ out here without saying goodnight.” 

Rick laughed and looked at Merle like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Merle was complicated. He knew that. Hell, he was a damn mystery to himself.

“I had to put him to bed,” he finally explained.

“Takes half an hour?” Rick asked. No judgement. Just an honest question.

Merle sighed and rolled his eyes. “He won’t fall asleep if I don’t lay down with him and tell him a story. Gotta stay there til’ he falls asleep or else all hell will break loose.”

“Huh,” Rick said. Merle could literally see the wheels in this guy’s head turning as he thought. It was like his eyes were busy solving some kind of complex calculus problem. 

“How does he listen to you when you talk? Hand against your throat or your lips?”

“Throat at night. But he does both here and there. I’ve seen him try to mimic the way my lips move.”

“He’s desperate to communicate, Merle. He wants to learn.”

Merle nodded and glanced over at the TV. “He ain’t dumb,” Merle said softly.

“No,” Rick agreed. “He most certainly is not.”

*************************  
The next morning, thanks to a rooster, Rick woke up at the crack of dawn. It was startling and unexpected. He was used to waking from the sound of the traffic getting heavier outside his townhouse window. From impatient honking and voices from the kids next door bleeding through the thin walls. Hell, he didn’t even realize that a rooster crowing at dawn was really a thing.

He cringed again at the bold announcement from the rooster that the day had started and he squinted against the line of light that found his eye from a broken piece of the blinds that covered the window. He rubbed at the grit in the corners of his eyes with the palms of his hands. He could feel his curls haphazardly sticking out in all directions. The couch was more comfortable than he thought it would be, but he had tossed and turned all night, his mind filled with ideas and plans for Daryl. He finally sat up as he finished rubbing the sleep from the corners of his eyes and when he blinked away the blur, his eyes focused on...Daryl.

Rick looked around the room and smiled. Merle wasn’t up yet. This was a decision Daryl made on his own -- to wake up and come into the living room where he clearly seemed to know this new stranger would be. He was sitting criss-cross on the floor opposite the coffee table as he moved his rock collection into different shapes and piles.

Rick lifted a foot and hit the floor with it just hard enough that Daryl would know he was awake. 

Daryl's eyes looked towards him then went back to his rocks. He moved his hands over them gently until he found the one he was looking for. He rose up and reached one of his own hands out for Rick’s, a gesture he wasn’t being encouraged to do. A movement that he most decidedly made on his own.

Rick reached out his hand and allowed Daryl to give him the smooth grey river rock. He ran his fingers over the object as Daryl’s hand stayed close to his own as if the younger man was supervising the little show and tell session. After a few moments he put the rock back into Daryl’s waiting hand. 

“Thank you for letting me see that. It’s very smooth, isn’t it? Feels nice and cool in your hand.”

Daryl put the rock down and shoved his hand back at Rick awkwardly, his wrist bent out so that the palm was facing the older man. Grinning, Rick held the boy’s hand in one of his own and then used a finger to spell R-O-C-K and then put the rock back in Daryl’s hand. 

He watched, fascinated, as Daryl put the rock down again and held his palm out. This time Rick spelled R-I-C-K. “My name is Rick.” And he put Daryl’s palm against his chest and said it again and then spelled it into his palm again.

Daryl stood and moved to the couch, his rock collection completely forgotten on the coffee table. He reached out for Rick’s hand and the teacher willingly gave it.

The boy was gentle with his touches as he pressed a finger to the palm of Rick’s hand. He proceeded to draw pictures onto the other man’s palm as if he were mimicking the finger spelling as best he could. He was getting the gist of it. Rick hadn’t expected him to immediately replicate R-I-C-K, so he wasn’t surprised when Daryl’s finger seemed to draw an eight then a flower then some kind of unintended Egyptian Hieroglyph. 

Daryl kept up the drawing for several long minutes as Rick watched. “You have so much to say, don’t you?” he whispered. When he finally stopped, Rick tried again. He carefully took Daryl’s hand and finger spelled R-I-C-K, then put Daryl’s hand on his throat and said “Rick”. Daryl’s brows were furrowed in concentration during this impromptu lesson. He moved his fingers from Rick’s throat to his lips and Rick repeated his name again. “Rick.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise when, just as Merle had mentioned, the boy tried to move his lips the same way.

“Rick,” he said again as he pulled Daryl’s hand to touch flat against his own chest. “That’s me. I am Rick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the continued comments! They are making me so damn happy!


	8. Basic Table Manners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So good to be hearing from all of you in comments. Up next - Chapter 8. (Sadly it's short, but there are lots more chapters to come and some of the much later ones are actually a bit longer)

Merle got out of the shower and dressed quickly. He was fairly certain Daryl would already be awake and had probably figured out by now that Rick was still in the house. He hadn’t heard a tantrum yet, so hopefully they were okay. 

He couldn’t help but feel a little optimistic about the possibility of communicating with his brother. The teacher really seemed committed, seemed to know what he was doing, and clearly had an abundance of confidence in Daryl’s ability to learn.

He walked out to the living room to see the two men sitting on the couch holding hands. 

“I ain’t payin’ ya to sit and hold his hand,” Merle said, his booming voice surprising Rick. 

“Actually you aren’t paying me at all,” Rick said after turning his attention to Merle. “And this is how we are going to teach him to communicate. Tracing letters into the palm of his hand to form words. You’ll be doing this, too.”

Merle’s eyes flicked over to Daryl and back to Rick. “That gonna work?”

“It will,” Rick answered with that same confidence he always seemed to have. 

Merle put a hand on top of his brother’s head and mussed his hair. “Mornin’ kiddo,” he mumbled.

Daryl reached out for his brother’s hand and started drawing pictures in his palm. 

“These supposed to be letters?” he asked as he glared at Rick. “Cause it feels more like random geometry.”

“He’s just getting the concept right now. He knows it means communication and that’s a start. Have a little more faith, Merle.”

“It’s better for you if I keep my expectations low. If I end up disappointed I’d have to kick your ass.” He didn’t have as much venom in his words as he usually did. He _wanted_ to believe, wanted to imagine a time where he could tell Daryl how proud he was of him. His eyes suddenly stung from the unexpected urge to cry and he turned back to the kitchen before Rick could notice.

Ever since he found out about the ball cancer he’d been uncharacteristically emotional. It wasn’t about having surgery or the worry over possible chemo or even the fear of dying. It was Daryl. It had always been Daryl. The kid broke his heart every damn day. And it had been worse lately because Rick was right. His brother _wanted_ to learn. And Merle hadn’t done anything about it in all these years.

He trudged back to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of fresh eggs and a slab of bacon from the fridge, hoping to busy himself out of his emotions. He wondered how much extra he should make for Rick. The guy seemed kinda scrawny, probably ate like a girl, but Merle erred on the side of too much rather than not enough. 

In no time at all the house smelled of bacon, one of the best scents in the world in Merle’s opinion. To this day he wondered why he’d never seen a bacon-scented candle. That was a million dollar idea.

“Smells good,” Rick said, startling Merle out of his thoughts.

He looked over at the teacher and noticed Daryl was sort of following him and just hovering around the man. 

“Everyone sit down. “‘S ready.”

Rick guided Daryl to his seat and took the one beside him as Merle doled out the plates of food. 

“Looks like you made enough to feed an army.”

Damnit. It _was_ too much.

“Well, I’m used to cooking for Dixon men. Not skinny, curly-haired fairies.”

Rick smiled and tried to hold back a laugh. Merle could admire a man who could take hits like that and not get pissy about it. To be honest, he really didn’t give that much of a shit that the guy was gay. As long as Rick didn’t try drawing hearts and flowers in his hand, Merle was fine with the guy as he was. This was a man that was going to be able to change Daryl’s life in the best way possible. Hell, he could be a hippie, a beaner, or a tranny and Merle wouldn’t mind. But his policy had always been not letting people know how much you liked them. He learned that lesson early on from his parents. And more recently when he fell for the girl that ran off after meeting Daryl. If you act like you don’t like people, you can act like it don’t bother you none when they don’t like you back.

Daryl ate with his hands as usual -- not just the bacon, but the eggs as well. Merle never tried to correct that habit because he always worried that Daryl might hurt himself with a fork or knife, but now watching Rick observe it, he really felt like a failure. 

Rick stood up after a few bites and put a fork into Daryl’s hand, guiding him to scoop up some eggs and get them into his mouth. 

Daryl kept looking up at Rick as they repeated the exercise. Merle waited for Rick to make a snide comment about how he hadn’t even helped Daryl learn basic table manners but it never came. Rick was laser-focused on Daryl; he wasn’t the kind of guy who would worry about pointing out blame or lamenting what had already been done. He was focused on the future. 

After the fourth bite Rick sat back down and nibbled on a piece of bacon as he kept his eyes on his student. Daryl ate a forkful of eggs on his own then stood and walked back to the living room.

“He ain’t great at staying in his seat for meals,” Merle admitted. “And I, uh, I ain’t never pushed on forks and knives. Didn’t want him to hurt himself.” 

“His whole world’s about to change,” Rick said with a beaming smile. Not even a whisper of disappointment in Merle for shortchanging the kid on table manners. 

Daryl came back into the room with one of his rocks and handed it to Rick, then sat back in his seat and held out the palm of his hand. Rick looked over at Merle with complete excitement then took Daryl’s hand and spoke as he wrote invisible letters. “R-O-C-K”. 

Daryl took the rock back and ran his hands over it’s smooth surface, then he pressed a hand to Rick’s chest. 

“R-I-C-K” 

Daryl stood and walked around the kitchen table with a piece of bacon. When he handed a salt shaker to Rick, Rick spelled again.

“S-A-L-T”

Merle watched Daryl’s expression each time. His brother’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration after each word was etched onto his palm. Finally, Merle stood and walked over to Daryl at the end of the table. He put his brother’s hand on his own chest and was thrilled when he pushed his palm out towards Merle afterwards. 

“M-E-R-L-E” Merle said as he spelled. “I’m your big brother. M-E-R-L-E.”

Daryl took Merle’s hand then, and traced patterns into his palm. Felt like a three, a seven, and a four-leaf clover. Disappointed, he looked over to Rick.

“Patience,” Rick said. “It’s not going to happen over night.” Merle bit at his lip and looked back to Daryl. 

“But it _is_ going to happen,” Rick reassured him, his voice containing that same cool confidence that Mere was believing in more and more with each passing hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for all your comments. I hope everyone enjoys today's installment!  
> Hope you are all safe and healthy   
> #WearAMask


	9. The Light Bulb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SUPER nervous about this chapter. I read it over and hated it and basically did a partial re-write and I'm still not sure I captured things the way I wanted to. Hope it's okay!

Ten days, Rick thought as he followed Daryl to the chicken coop. The elder Dixon was out mending fences on the far end of the farm, so Rick was just following Daryl’s lead for the day. 

That morning, like the last several, had consisted of Daryl putting random things in Rick’s hand and then holding out his palm for the word. The toaster. A tube of toothpaste. A book. A fist full of grass. His thirst for interaction was unquenchable. He always wanted more.

The day before, Daryl had finally started mimicking the exact patterns Rick drew on his palms back to him. Instead of numbers, drawings, and random hieroglyphs, when Daryl drew back on Rick’s hand, it would be a copy of what Rick had just shown him. He’d mimicked the patterns of several words successfully. R-I-C-K. C-H-A-I-R. B-O-O-K. R-O-C-K. It was a step closer to finally understanding that these patterns were words and these words had meaning.

As Daryl led him to the chickens, Rick marveled over the way the younger man moved. Determined. Focused. Unafraid. He must have an amazing sense of spatial awareness and part of his confident walk was probably from his sense of smell. The chicken coop...well, it smelled like shit. And the closer they got each morning the stronger it was. Daryl took any tidbits of information he could get from smell, touch, memory...and he used it to move through the grounds with ease. 

When Daryl got to the cage he proceeded as normal. Going in, locking the gate behind him, and petting chickens as he hummed that same song. 

“Hmm hm hm hm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm hm hm.”

He would have to ask Merle to play them some music tonight. See if he could determine what song Daryl seemed to be so smitten with.

While Daryl did his thing, Rick looked around the farm. The nearby horses whinnied in their barn. He hadn’t ridden in _years_ and he missed the beauty of the large animals, but Merle was pretty firm about not wanting Daryl around them. Hershel didn’t have enough time to spend with the horses so part of Merle’s job was to take them out and keep them active. 

Rick was still working on his mission to get Merle to allow Daryl to help with that task. He was sure the young man would _love_ it. Feeling the wind in his hair, the sensation of the trot and forward motion. The connection he’d be able to make with the horse as they’d ride together. 

Rick didn’t blame Merle for his hesitancy on so many things. Like the table manners. It had become clear over the past weeks of conversations that neither Dixon had a good upbringing. Merle hadn’t even finished High School. And the fact that someone like him had enough compassion and empathy to make Daryl his priority was enough for Rick to respect him. Merle had wanted to do right by Daryl. He just never really knew how.

After Daryl collected the basket of eggs, he came back out to Rick and put one of them in the other man’s hand, then held out his own palm for Rick to draw. The teacher wrote E-G-G and Daryl mimicked the word back, biting his bottom lip in complete concentration as he drew each letter exactly the way that he felt it. When he pulled back, likely expecting the gentle pat on the back that drawing letters got him, the bucket jostled and an egg fell out and cracked open in the grass. 

Noticing the change in the weight of the bucket, Daryl knelt down in the grass and felt around until his fingers slid through the slimy raw egg. Rick smiled thinking about how Merle had taught him about eggs in the first place. He knelt next to the younger Dixon and wrote E-G-G again. Daryl froze, his head cocked to one side and a wrinkle of thought in his brow. He took another egg out of the basket and laid it gently in the grass then held out his palm. Rick wrote. E-G-G. And Daryl looked back and forth between the whole egg and the broken one. Pointing to the broken one he took Rick’s hand and spelled E-G-G, then pointed to the other and spelled it again.

Rick’s jaw dropped. It was the light bulb moment he’d been waiting for! Daryl was finally connecting that the drawings on his hands stood for something specific. “Daryl!,” he said, smiling ear-to-ear. “That’s amazing! You’re right. This is an egg!”

He put a hand on Daryl’s bicep and rubbed, a motion he’d been trying to get Daryl to associate with “good job” or “that is right”. But the brush of his hand didn’t feel like enough so as they stood, he wrapped the younger man into his arms and hugged him. Daryl rested his head on Rick’s shoulder and hugged back. The younger Dixon was grinning that lopsided smile of his when they parted. He took Rick’s hand again, wrote E-G-G and put an egg in his hand and Rick rubbed his arm in praise. Then he put a hand on Rick’s chest and wrote R-I-C-K. 

It had clicked! The sudden realization that the patterns on his palm had clear, specific meaning. Rick’s cheeks hurt from smiling as he watched the younger man make all the connections. If he wanted an egg, he could write E-G-G. If he wanted Rick he could write R-I-C-K. He was learning!

Daryl excitedly pointed to himself and held out his palm. 

Rick responded. D-A-R-Y-L. “You are Daryl.”

Pointing at himself again, Daryl concentrated on tracing the letters into Rick’s hand. D-A-R-Y-L, eyes shining in the excitement of the moment, a sly smile playing on his lips.

After they put the eggs in the house, they went back out for a walk. The sky was a bit overcast, the sun hidden behind grey clouds, and Rick noticed Daryl look up with a pout several times. As they walked, Daryl would touch things and then hold out his palm for the word -- fence, flower, tractor, barn, tree.

As they were heading back to the house, the rain started. A few sprinkles at first that turned into a downpour of fat droplets. Daryl let out a pained scream at the sky, his hands balled into fists and frustration clear on his features. Rick took his hand and spelled R-A-I-N. But the younger man was no longer in the mood for spelling. He punched at Rick’s chest and cried out again. 

Rick grabbed his hand and they picked up their pace as they got closer to the house. Once they were beside it, Daryl banged his fists against the house, crying out again, pushing Rick away when he tried to intervene. Finally Rick just grabbed his hand firmly and walked him to the door and inside.

“It’s okay,” Rick kept repeating as he grabbed a towel out of the bathroom and rubbed at Daryl’s hair with it. The young man put up with it for a couple seconds then turned away and went into the living room, throwing things against the wall. Anything he could get his hands on. The TV remote, the lamp, a couple pillows. When he started pulling at his own hair, Rick stepped in and hugged him. Daryl struggled against it for just a moment and then relaxed into it and hugged Rick back as he started crying. 

Rick rubbed circles around Daryl’s back. “It’s okay. It’s just rain. It will be over soon.” They stayed in that position, hugging in the middle of the living room, for several long minutes, the patter of rain on the roof above them. Then the sudden burst of the front door swinging open and Merle came in out of breath, clearly having run from the far end of the farm.

“He don’t like rain,” Merle said as he put a hand on the kitchen chair and tried to catch his breath. 

“You don’t say,” Rick answered as he pulled away from Daryl and started picking up the lamp and pillows, putting the batteries that fell out of the remote back in.

Merle glanced around the room. “Shit. Sorry. I should have mentioned that.”

“It’s okay. We got through it.”

Merle sat down next to Daryl and rubbed a hand on the other man’s leg. “‘S okay, kiddo.” Then he turned to Rick. “In my defense I did warn you about his tantrums. And you heard several through the wall during bathtime.”

Rick laughed. “It makes total sense for him to react like that when something he doesn’t like happens. At the moment, he doesn’t have any other way to communicate his feelings.”

Frowning and deep in thought, Rick turned his attention to Merle. “He really doesn’t like water. I wonder why that is.”

That evening after the storm had passed and Merle was cooking spaghetti for dinner, Daryl approached his brother with a wide grin that he was hardly without anymore. Rick watched, his heart bursting with pride as Daryl took Merle’s hand and wrote clearly M-E-R-L-E. The older Dixon looked over at Rick than back to his brother. 

“He just wrote my actual name,” Merle muttered in surprise. 

“He’s learning.” Just like I promised.

Merle looked down as Daryl pointed at his own chest and began another word. 

“What did he write?” Rick asked.

“Did you teach him his name is Daryl?”

“Sure did,” Rick said with a wink.

Merle pulled his baby brother in for a long, tight hug. “Daryl,” he murmured, clearly at a loss for words.

That evening Rick started writing almost all the words he’d say out loud onto Daryl’s palm. At one point Daryl took Rick’s hand and wrote R-A-I-N as he twisted his face into an angry scowl. He’d remembered that word after only feeling it once and Rick was again renewed with hope. Daryl was so eager to communicate. 

Rick ran a hand through Daryl’s hair to comfort him from the word he hated so much. Daryl mimicked the move, running a hand through Rick’s hair, then he used both hands and slowly moved his fingertips through Rick’s hair and over the features of his face, getting to see him for the first time, soft fingers against the bridge of his nose, around his eyebrows, along his cheekbones and a thumb grazing his lips and chin.

Daryl was smiling as his fingers moved and they eventually ended up back in Rick’s hair, tugging at a few strands, then pushing his palm to Rick for the word. 

H-A-I-R. 

Daryl took Rick’s hand and wrote R-I-C-K H-A-I-R. And then he smiled and petted a hand over Rick’s curls again. 

“You like my hair?” Rick asked with a grin. “Why, thank you.”

Merle popped his head in from the kitchen, startling Rick out of his excitement over the fact that the younger man had just strung two words together. 

“Dinner’s ready, you homos.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next- Hanging out and listening to music!


	10. Almost Close to Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your wonderful comments and enthusiasm over this fic. Hope you continue to enjoy todays installment!

Merle was surprised that a queer could like Rolling Rock. He would have guessed Rick to be a Cosmo or Pink Martini kinda guy. Maybe a fancy IPA microbrew at best. The teacher was full of surprises. Over the past three weeks he’d actually broken through to Daryl with a boatload of words. Hell, his baby brother knew Merle’s name now. Why hadn’t he thought of this palm writing stuff?

“Whoa. I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said when he saw Rick hand his beer bottle to Daryl. 

Rick was smart enough to listen and pull it back. “Oh, you don’t let him drink?”

Merle laughed at his memory. “I gave him a beer once. He took one sip, spit it out, and threw the bottle against the wall. We’ve had a lot of broken glass around this place.”

Rick was trying not to laugh as he said “Well, it _is_ an acquired taste, I suppose.”

The TV was on, volume low, with an old episode of M*A*S*H* playing and Merle stood to turn it off. 

“You listen to classic rock?” Merle asked as he walked over to his stereo system. 

“I listen to a little bit of everything. Do you have any specific songs you play often? I’d love to find out what Daryl’s been humming.”

“Got me some Best of Classic Rock CDs. I play them a lot,” Merle said as he put one into the disc player and turned the volume up loud so the bass would vibrate against the floor. 

Daryl was sitting on the carpet organizing his rocks on the table, but as soon as he felt the first beats, he walked over to the stereo and put his palms against the speakers, a smile on his face.

“Ah, AC/DC,” Rick said when “Back in Black” burst out into the room.

Merle raised his beer and Rick and gave him a nod. “I’m impressed, Grimes. I kinda thought your kind was more into Cher or Judy Garland.”

“You know all gay people aren’t the same right?” 

Merle shrugged and took another long pull off his beer. He would never admit it out loud, but he was glad Rick was staying at the house. It was so nice to have someone to talk to. Even he tended to get sick of hearing his own voice. 

They listened and idly chatted about a whole lotta nothing specific. As the songs bounced from one to the next Daryl would squeak out one of his happy noises. AC/DC changed to “Hey Joe” by Jimi Hendrix, “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones, then some classic Clapton. 

“You know who this one’s by?” Merle asked as “Sunshine of you Love” pounded it’s strong bass against the speakers.

“Trick question. You think I’m just gonna say Clapton, don’t you? It’s technically Cream.”

“You get an A+, Grimes,” Merle said with a smile. He narrowed his eyes at Rick when the other man cocked his head, his eyes suddenly darting to Daryl. Merle followed his glance to see Daryl’s head bobbing to the beat.

Rick hummed loudly. “Hmm hm hm hm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm hm hm. That’s it!”

Merle listened closer to the beats of the song. He was right. 

Rick moved to the floor next to Daryl, watching the younger man with a look of pure amazement. “He’s humming it to himself! Is this your favorite song, Daryl?”

Merle couldn’t help but smile wide, ear to ear. “I knew he’d have good taste in music!”

Rick took one of Daryl’s hands off the speakers and pressed it to his throat, then started to sing along. “I’m with you my love, the light shining through on you…”

Merle grimaced. “Christ, Grimes. You sing like the final groans of a dying buffalo.”

Rick shrugged. “He doesn’t know that.” And then he continued his loud, off-key screaming of lyrics. “I’ll stay with you darlin’ now. I’ll stay with you till my seas all dried up.” Rick's awful singing actually put a smile on the elder Dixon’s face as he watched Daryl hear it through the vibration of the base with one hand and the vibration of Rick’s voice in the other. 

Merle got up from his recliner with an exaggerated groan. “Gonna need another beer for this shit,” he mumbled. “You want another?”

Rick nodded, still singing along with Daryl’s fingers against his vocal cords.

They listened to another dozen songs, Rick right by Daryl’s side observing his reactions to each new beat and reporting to Merle on whether he thought Daryl liked the song or didn’t care for it. 

Merle had to admit as he sat there in his living room, a cold beer in his hand, music playing, Rick and Daryl bobbing their heads to the music...it was a damn nice night. He was even almost close to happy.

Eventually they turned off the music and put _M*A*S*H_ back on, he and Rick both became absorbed in the episode. 

“Best show ever,” Rick said as it went to commercial.

Merle looked over at him. Surprise after surprise after surprise. “Thought you queers was more about _Glee_ and _Will & Grace_.” He was glad to see Rick laugh, taking it as the joke it was supposed to be.

“Thought you rednecks only watched _Duck Dynasty_ and the Hunting Channel,” he shot back.

“Actually, _Duck Dynasty_ really is a good show, you should give it a chance.”

“Ahh, so you _do_ watch it,” Rick said with a laugh.

“‘Course. I’m a redneck,” 

Merle was pretty sure busting each other’s chops over perceived stereotypes was going to be their own private little joke and it was at that moment that Merle realized Rick was becoming his friend. He hadn’t noticed right away because Merle didn’t actually have any friends. But he was pretty sure that’s what was happening.

Daryl was sitting on the couch beside the teacher reaching up to run fingers through the other man’s hair. Tugging the teacher until Rick’s head was in Daryl’s lap, and the younger man continued to pet Rick’s hair, tugging loosely on the curls and smiling when he let go and the hair sprung back into place.

“He likes my curls for some reason,” Rick explained as Merle watched them with a brow raised in confusion.

“You look like a fucking dog laying there to get petted.”

Rick bounced back up quickly, startling Daryl in the process. “That’s a great idea!” he shouted.

Idea? What idea? He came up with an idea? He was pretty sure he was just making fun of Rick. “Uh…I ain’t that drunk yet. I know I ain’t said no idea.”

“A dog,” Rick said, looking at Merle like he was an idiot for not realizing what seemed to be a brilliant idea.

“You want to bring a wild animal into my house so it can crap on my floors?” Merle asked.

Rick rolled his eyes, a move Merle was getting quite used to seeing. “A dog is domestic, not wild. We could get one that’s already potty trained. Daryl has so little in his life, his only other living connection was you and now just me and you. He loves petting the chickens, loved petting the horses the one time you allowed it. He would love to pet a dog, get its affection and return it, feel a sense of purpose. They actually have therapy dogs that could help with his tantrums. I got a friend who trains working dogs we could go see.”

“For all you know, he could be terrified of dogs,” Merle grumbled with a frown.

“You know what that sounds like to me?” Rick asked as Daryl pulled him back down to run fingers through his hair. 

“What?”

“Sounds like _you_ are terrified of dogs.”

“You know they bite, right?” Merle asked.

“You know not all dogs bite. The same way all gays don’t love Cher.”

“Hmm,” Merle said as he took another guzzle of beer. “I’d have thought you’d get your gay card revoked for that kind of blasphemy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a dilemma maybe you guys could help me out with. I have been immersed in this particular universe with Rick and Daryl for months and I needed to stretch my legs for a bit before finishing up the last couple chapters. So yesterday I wrote a 6K oneshot about Rick and Daryl getting out of the prison together after it fell. It's got some pretty heavy warning tags on it (just a heads up). I also- for the first time in years, had an idea for another character to highlight in my What is Seen and What Is series. And I sat up in bed and typed the entire 1500 word installment to the series at 2 am from my cell phone! I'm telling you- Rickyl is coursing through my veins lately. 
> 
> So my delimma is this- Should I just hold off on posting either of those new ones until this fic is done to avoid any confusion? Or should I go ahead and post the two new ones over the next few days? (Bear in mind- whatever I do with the new ones... I will still definitely be posting twice a week for Flowers to the Sun, so don't worry!)
> 
> Would love to hear your thoughts!!


	11. D-O-G  H-O-M-E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god! I am so soooo soooo sorry about posting this late. I've got a sick cat and most of my evenings are spent chasing her and fighting to give her meds and then collapsing from a panic attack afterwards. I swear I would spend MONEY to hire someone to come over and give my cat pills.
> 
> Thanks AbyssWalker for the gentle reminder that I am late!! Hopefully a chapter of cute puppies will help make up for it.

“So, you _are_ under the impression that I don’t like dogs and the place you decided to drag us is an actual pit bull fighting ring?” Merle asked.

Rick smiled, watching Daryl through the passenger side mirror as he moved his hand in waves against the wind.

“It’s not a pit bull fighting ring,” Rick said for the hundredth time, convincing himself that Merle was just being difficult because it was his default setting. He was actually growing quite used to the other man’s personality. “It’s a training facility for service dogs -- you know, dogs for the blind, therapy dogs, seizure dogs, search and rescue.”

“I definitely don’t want a dog that has seizures,” Merle said, face still schooled into the perpetual frown he tried to keep it in. Rick had already decided that one of his side goals was gonna be to make the other man smile more often. He was always so tense, so serious. 

“The dog doesn’t have seizures, you idiot. It alerts it’s owner when it senses _his_ seizure coming on.”

Merle was clearly trying not to smile at his own joke when he said. “I don’t want no blind dog, neither.”

As they got closer to Walsh’s Training & Adoption Center, Rick continued to lay the groundwork. 

“So, this guy Shane is a good friend of mine. He really understands what people’s needs are and he puts his soul into training these dogs. He’s got dozens of awards for…”

“He’s queer ain’t he?” Merle interrupted. 

“He’s not queer.”

“So you wish he was queer then.”

Rick sighed but smiled, knowing Merle was just being Merle.

They pulled into the facility and Rick was instantly relieved that there weren’t many cars in the parking lot. He didn’t want to subject his fellow human beings to a grumpy Merle Dixon who only just recently relented on the dog debate because he was sick of watching his baby brother pet Rick to death.

Rick had just gotten out of the car when he saw Shane coming out of the building, A huge smile on his face and his arms out for a hug.

“How ya doing, brother?” Shane asked when they parted. “Quite an interesting sabbatical plan you have here. Which one’s Daryl?” he asked as the two Dixon brothers came up behind him.

“How’s this guy gonna know how to train dogs for the blind and deaf when he can’t even spot a blind and deaf kid standing right in front of him?” Merle bellowed.

Rick rolled his eyes at Shane. “The one that’s not so loud.”

Shane shook Merle’s hand first and then reached for Daryl before Rick grabbed him by the wrist. “He’s usually not real excited about strangers. Let’s have him get a little comfortable here before we make the introduction.”

“No problem. I just let a few of the dogs out in the yard back here. Let’s just bring him on back and see what he thinks. The five I have out have been specifically trained for seizures and panic attacks so I think they’ll do good with Daryl’s tantrums.”

“They specifically trained not to shit in my house?” Merle asked as Rick took Daryl’s hand to guide him to the back yard. 

“You don’t have to worry, Merle. Everyone is potty trained.” 

The older Dixon seemed laser focused on the dogs as they rounded the corner. They stood and watched for a few minutes while Daryl bit on a thumbnail, his eyes facing the sun, and his expression showing that he was clearly enjoying the heat of it against his skin.

“I got nut surgery in a week and I’m gonna be down one ball. So which of them dogs won’t try to bite off the one I have left?”

Rick cracked up laughing and laughed even harder when he saw Shane’s puzzled look. 

“These dogs don’t bite,” Shane assured him.

“I feel like that’s a lie,” Merle said after thinking about it. 

Shane opened the gate and waved them all in. “Come on in and see for yourselves.”

They walked into the yard, Daryl following Rick to the middle as Merle lingered by the fence. There were five young dogs out there sniffing at their feet. All pit bulls -- one blue, three brindle, and one white with a brindle patch over his eye. 

“They're beautiful,” Rick said as he bent down to pet one. He took Daryl’s hand in his and helped the other man reach out and touch one of the dogs. The other man froze for a moment as the pup wiggled against his hand. His brows furrowed in concentration as he bent down and used both hands to feel along the blue pit from ears to tail. He looked up at Rick with that beautiful smile of his and the already sunny day seemed that much brighter. 

He watched as Daryl figured out there were multiple dogs for him to play with and he moved his attention to each one, squeeks of joy falling from his lips every time one of the dogs licked at his hands or his cheek. 

Daryl kept one hand on one of the brindle pups and held his palm up to Rick, eager to know what the cuddly, wiggly body was. 

D-O-G.

Rick backed up and leaned against the fence with Shane and Merle as they all watched Daryl who was now lying on the grass with all five dogs vying for his attention. 

“Told you he’d love a dog,” Rick said, almost ashamed at how childishly ‘I told you so’ it sounded. 

“Why don’t you guys stick around awhile? Let Daryl see which one he connects with. I have a few things to deal with inside and another couple coming in shortly, so I’ll leave you all to it.”

“ _Another_ couple? You know I ain’t a gay right?” Merle asked. “We ain’t no couple.”

Shane tried his hardest not to smile as he answered. “Yeah, uh...I would have bet my life savings that you were straight so don’t worry.”

Merle leaned in conspiratorially. “You know one time someone bet I was gay at a bar?”

Shane looked surprised and Rick nudged Merle’s shoulder with his own. “You forgot to mention to Shane that it _was_ in a gay bar.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Daryl laughing in the most wide-open way a sound of sheer joy and happiness.

“Look at him,” Merle said affectionately. He couldn’t even try not to smile. Daryl’s happiness was contagious and all three men watching were warmed at the sight of him showering each of the dogs with love and attention.

Shane fist bumped Rick and excused himself, leaving Merle and Rick standing side by side and watching as Daryl found an old rope toy on the ground and started playing tug-of-war with the blue pit.

Merle finally walked over to Daryl and awkwardly rubbed a hand over his little brother’s mop of hair. Daryl reached up for his hand and drew letters. D-O-G. Then he put Merle’s hand on the one he was playing with.

“Hi dog. You gonna shit on my carpet?” The pup barked out a ‘no’ and sat obediently at Merle’s feet, looking up at him and wagging his tail. 

Rick sat down in the grass next to Daryl “Looks like you have a fan, Merle.”

An hour later all three men were sitting in the grass and playing with the dogs, Daryl looking happier than Rick had ever seen him.

“This is actually a really good idea for him. Look at him. He’s so happy.”

“Yeah, it was a good idea,” Merle finally admitted. “Glad I thought of it.” Rick and Merle shared a smile and if Rick wasn’t mistaken, he was starting to think maybe Merle was in need of a friend as much as Daryl was.

After a three-hour long visit, Rick had communicated to Daryl “ _O-N-E. D-O-G. H-O-M-E._. The younger man had focused on the blue pup that had taken a liking to Merle. Now, rubbing the pups head repeatedly, he wrote D-O-G. H-O-M-E into Merle’s hand. 

“Good choice, kiddo,” Merle said as he rubbed a hand over the dog’s back. “I feel like this one gets me.”

On the ride home the dog rested his head in Daryl’s lap and he nodded off as the younger man continued to stroke his head.

“So surgery is next week?” Rick asked.

Merle grunted in the affirmative. He always tried to talk all casual about his balls, almost making a joke of the whole thing, but he wasn’t laughing now. 

“Nervous?” Rick asked and Merle looked over to him with a sincere nod. 

“I can drive you if you want. It’s an in and out surgery, right? You won’t be able to drive after.”

Merle shrugged as he squinted into the setting sun that they were driving into. “I mean, whatever. If you want.”

“It’d be good for us to leave Daryl for a few hours. Make sure he knows that I’ll always come back. He hasn’t left my side since I moved in. You said he can handle a couple hours right?”

Merle grunted again in response. 

“You’ll be okay. I’m certain of it,” Rick said, putting a hand on Merle’s leg for a quick pat of comfort. He was shocked that Merle didn’t make a snide comment about the touch. He just looked in the rear-view mirror at his brother and the dog they named Blue. 

“I guess if ole Blue got them both cut off, I can survive losing just one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive my lateness!!!!


	12. Some Paperwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again for posting late last week. I promise to remember what day it is from now one!

It was 6:30am and Merle was sitting on the edge of his bed staring at his balls.

“Well, boys we had a good run. But it’s time to break up the band,” he sighed. 

Today was the big day. The day when he and his left nut would no longer be one. He gave his balls a jiggle then pulled on his boxers and jeans. He stood and looked into his closet trying to decide what you wear to an event like this. It could just be the day he lost a nut. But it could be a day that he went under anethstesia and didn’t wake up. Did he want his Van Halen t-shirt to end up in a body bag? Or did he want to leave it so Daryl could wear it when he was gone?

He ended up grabbing an old green T-shirt with a faded Rolling Rock emblem on it. He didn’t even remember where it came from. By the time he was dressed he could hear Daryl and Rick in the kitchen. The teacher had offered to get up and make breakfast that morning and by God, he seemed to be sticking to his word. The thought of it made Merle’s belly ache with guilt. 

Rick was a good man. He’d proven it over the past few weeks and Merle should just be honest with him. He was being a goddamn pussy and he knew it. Picking up his copy of the papers on his dresser, he flipped through them again and re-read the most important paragraphs. Maybe he would tell Rick on the drive. 

By the time he walked out to the kitchen, Rick was at the stove flipping pancakes and Daryl was sitting in his chair, one hand on Blue’s head and the other running fingers over the new book Rick had just ordered for him. Braille. Something else Merle should have thought of on his own.

“Think he knows what he’s ‘looking at’ yet?” Merle said, air-quoting the word looking.

“Patience,” Rick said. 

One of the guy’s favorite goddamn words, Merle thought. 

“He just got the books two days ago.”

Merle sat down in his spot even though he wouldn’t be able to eat. Pre-surgery orders. He tried to ignore his growling belly as he watched his brother’s fingers slide over the words of the page he had open. Blue walked over to Merle for a good morning rub then returned to his spot next to Daryl. Merle looked back over to Rick at the stove.

“You know he’s gonna make a goddamn mess with that syrup. That’s why I ain’t never…”

“He uses a fork now. Haven’t you noticed? He’ll be fine.”

Merle’s brows knit together in thought. He _has_ been using a fork. And staying in his seat for the most part, too. It’s like Rick was fixing everything.

“You know,” Rick said as he put the plate of pancakes on the table and sat down. “You actually worry way too much.”

Merle scowled as the teacher took Daryl’s book from him and loaded his plate up with pancakes and syrup. Daryl fussed for a moment and tried to get up and retrieve his book, but Rick stopped him and started writing in his palm. Merle watched as Daryl wrote something back and then Rick responded and they both finally sat down to eat. 

Trying not to let his emotions overtake him, he asked, “Did you just have an actual argument with him? And win?”

“For the most part,” Rick answered. “He’s learned a good number of words over this first month or so. Enough for us to have some basic communication. He’s coming along faster than I even thought possible, to be honest.”

Merle smiled at his baby brother. “He ain’t dumb,” Merle said softly. Something he’d always believed about Daryl and he’d been right. And Rick had been amazing. More than he could have ever imagined.

“Are you crying?” Rick asked, the shock clear in his tone.

Merle wiped the supposed tears away with his arm. “Dixons don’t cry, dumbass. I got allergies,” he lied.

Rick sat back in his chair after his last bite and pushed himself away from the table. “Merle. Today is going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. Doctors do this kind of surgery every day and…”

“I don’t need no pep talk, Grimes. Me and the left nut had a good heart-to-heart this morning and we’re both ready for what lies ahead.”

Daryl finished his entire plate of food and before going back to his book, grabbed Rick’s hand and drew some words. 

“What did he say?” Merle asked.

“Technically, he said G-O-O-D P-L-A-T-E. But what I know he means, is he liked the pancakes. Like I said, still a lot to learn.”

Rick started cleaning up the kitchen as Merle walked into the living room and sat on the side of Daryl that Blue didn’t occupy. The younger Dixon took Merle’s hand and wrote B-O-O-K into it and held it out for his other brother to examine. 

Merle took it, ran his own fingers over the raised bumps of the braille and thought again about how smart his kid brother was. Merle couldn’t imagine trying to learn all this stuff with Daryl’s limitations. As he flipped through the pages, words below each line of Braille so he could read it too, he saw the word ROCK. 

Grabbing one of Daryl’s rocks from the coffee table, Merle put it in his brother’s hand, then removed it and spelled R-O-C-K. Then he took the younger man’s fingers and slid them over the four indented patterns that spelled ROCK in the book. He repeated the finger spelling and letting Daryl feel the Braille afterwards until he was fairly certain that Daryl had just learned to read the word.

“All cleaned up,” Rick declared as he walked into the room. “We should probably get going soon.” The teacher sat next to Blue and ran his fingers over the dog's head. Daryl turned towards the feel of him sitting. 

Merle watched as he reached over the dog, put a rock in Rick’s hand, finger spelled it, then had the teacher run his finger over the word in the book. 

“That’s right Daryl! Good job! Rock!”

That smile on Rick’s face? It was the reason Merle had done what he had done the other day. The man was _invested_. Daryl wasn’t a project to him like Merle worried about at the beginning. Rick was Daryl’s friend, teacher, mentor. Hell, he was Merle’s friend. And this was after...what? Five or six weeks? He planned on spending a year with them. The bond would just grow stronger. 

Rick started to write words on Daryl’s palm and Merle stood and grabbed his keys. 

When Rick finally stood too, Daryl joined him, then walked to Merle and wrapped him in a strong hug.

He wanted to ask how Daryl knew to hug him. What Rick was able to communicate about where they were going, but instead he just hugged back. “I love you, Daryl.” he whispered.

Daryl took his hand and spelled out his longest sentence yet. M-E-R-L-E. B-R-O-T-H-E-R. G-O-O-D.

*****************************  
Once Rick and Merle got out to the driveway they argued for twenty minutes about who should drive, with Merle winning at first. But since apparently the gays didn’t know how to drive stick, they took Rick’s car since he’d have to drive them home.

“Is it a gay thing? I mean, I just don’t get it,” Merle said as he backed out of the drive. “You’d _think_ the gays would love to drive stick. I mean it’s a hard dick-shaped stick that you need to stroke back and forth and…”

“I get it, Merle,” Rick said trying to keep a straight face. “It’s like a dick. I like dicks. I should like it.” Then he turned to look at Merle. “So why do _you_ like it?”

Merle scowled. “Damn. You win that one.”

It had become a game of theirs. When they’d start sassing each other back and forth, one of them would inevitably have a ‘Mic Drop’ moment and the other would concede. It was this private joke they had. Something Merle never had experience with since technically he’d never really had a legit friend before. Life was really different with a friend that you talked to every day. It was...better. 

He leaned over Rick and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a manilla envelope with his second copy of the papers, and dropped it on Rick’s lap.

“What’s this?”

Merle took a deep breath. “I wasn’t gonna even tell ya. Cause y’know...I’m an asshole. But I got this annoying feeling about it. I guess it’s what the kids call ‘guilt’,” Merle said with a laugh. “So I wanted to give you a chance to say no so’s that I don’t stick ya with anythin’ ya don’t want.”

Rick slowly opened the envelope and pulled out it’s contents. “You made a will?” Rick asked, clearly surprised.

“Why ya so surprised? Don’t everyone make wills? You think rednecks don’t plan for the future? That’s narrow-minded thinking, Grimes.””

“I just...I guess I just can’t picture you sitting across the table from a lawyer.”

“Well, it wasn’t as bad as ya think. Was a blond with big tits.”

Rick nodded his head, smiling. “Okay, that makes it easier to picture. Did she say yes?”

“Yes to what?”

“I mean, Jesus, Merle. You’re the one told me the other night that you were always looking for action. You telling me you sat there with a woman like that and didn’t try to win her over with that Dixon charm?”

Merle laughed and shook his head. He wasn’t used to people knowing him so well. But since he and Rick had been chatting more and more it’s like he’d lost his privacy. But it actually wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

“Couldn’t,” he finally answered.

“Why not? I know she couldn’t have been out of your league because according to you three nights ago, and this is a direct quote, ‘my league has enough room for every woman’. End quote.”

Merle glanced back over as he laughed and then remembered what Rick had in his hands. He focused back on the road. “Didn’t want to make plans with her in case I die. Page two. Start with the third paragraph.”

He bit at his lip as Rick quietly read what he had done. Minutes went by that felt like slow motion hours.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he saw Rick putting the papers back in the envelope. Staring straight ahead, Merle looked at Rick out of the corner of his eye, gauging his reaction before speaking.

“I can call her now if you ain’t okay with it. Have it changed.”

“Merle. I’m honored that you trust me to be Daryl’s guardian.”

The pause after that sentence made Merle’s stomach sink. He was expecting a “but” any minute.. “I know. It’s really too much to ask someone we just met a couple months ago. I’ll call Andrea and have her change…” he fumbled for his phone as he drove with one hand. 

“Merle,” Rick said in that ‘shut-up and listen’ way of his. “I’m honored. And I want you to know that if you wouldn’t have done this? If...God forbid...something _did_ happen? I would have worked my ass off to become his legal guardian anyway.”

“Really?” Merle asked, hating the sound of desperation in his voice.

“Of course. Besides, remember, you said I was an honorary Dixon.”

Merle smiled. “Yeah, I did. No one can belch like that and not be an honorary Dixon. You even put my ass to shame.”

Rick put the envelope back into the glove compartment and pointed to the entrance sign to the hospital. “It was not my proudest moment.”

“See that’s what makes you gay and me an actual man,” Merle said as he scanned for a parking spot. “I burp and I’m proud if it’s deep and loud. I give my _own_ self a high-five for a good one. You? You were excusing yourself for half an hour. Men burp, bro. Embrace it.”

When they finally parked, Merle turned off the car and neither of them moved. Rick finally put a hand over Merle’s and squeezed it, making the older man jump. 

“Friends support each other, Merle. Embrace it.”

They walked into the building, Rick holding the door open for the other man.

 _Friends_ , Merle thought, kind of relieved that Rick felt the same way he did. Great. Took 29 years to get a damn friend. Yet another reason it would suck to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter of Rick and Merle bonding. Coming soon- Will Merle survive his surgery???? Stay Tuned!


	13. The Story of a Young Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a deep breath and don't freak out. Keep reading.

Apparently the older Dixon had been right afterall. Merle died during surgery. And the reason Rick _knew_ he died was because the other man hadn’t stopped talking about it in the two hours Rick had been sitting with him, keeping him company in the room he was admitted into for an overnight stay to monitor him.

“I mean...I _died_ , Rick. Died,” Merle said for the tenth time. “You say I worry too much and I worried about dying and I did. I ain’t sayin’ I’m always right, but I’m damn near close.”

“Merle,” Rick said. “You were technically dead for one minute and forty-seven seconds. You didn’t die and stay dead, so it really doesn’t count.”

“Oh, it counts,” Merle argued as a nurse came into the room and wrote her name on the white board across from the hospital bed. 

“Hello there, gentlemen,” she said as she turned and walked to Merle’s bedside. “I’m Nurse Peletier but you can call me Carol. How are you feeling Mr. Dixon?”

“I died,” Merle said with puppy dog eyes, looking up at the pixie-like woman with the short hair as she held her fingers to his wrist and watched the clock over the bed to check his pulse. “And call me Merle,” he said as he lifted Carol’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

“Well, I’m sure glad to see that you're back among the living,” she said laughing as she grabbed the cuff to take his blood pressure.

“You won’t be if you're the one on shift all night,” Rick said. “He’ll talk your ears off.”

“Well, I like to listen,” Carol said as she entered information into the bedside computer.

“And I like to talk. We’re a match made in heaven,” Merle said. If Rick wasn’t mistaken, he was pretty sure he noticed Merle attempting to bat his eyelashes at the woman for added sympathy.

After asking a bunch of relevant medical questions, Carol bid them farewell and headed for the door.

“Carol! Wait.” Merle called out. “Are you a lesbian?”

Carol looked at Rick and then back to her patient. “Umm. No. Why does that matter? Are you a homophobe?”

“No man, this guy here is as queer as a three dollar bill,” he said motioning towards Rick. “And he’s my friend. I umm...I just wanted to say that I know most people think short hair cuts like that are just for lesbians, but I think it really looks nice on you. I even like the premature greys.”

“Umm...Thank you?” she said, the pitch of her voice rising at the end like it was more of a question.

“And I should probably tell you before you fall in love with me that I’m one ball short of a set. But I have it on good authority that everything I got left still works.

Merle looked over to Rick and winked. “Dixon charm. She’s gonna say yes when I ask her out.”

Carol laughed. “Well, it's good that you have a sense of humor after the day you’ve had.”

“That’s not a sense of humor,” Rick said. “He actually does think he’s being charming.”

“I’m not going to lie,” Carol said. “Your flirting could use some work.”

“Was the ball comment an overshare?” Merle asked. Carol laughed in that way women have that might mean she was possibly interested for some reason. After she left, Merle stared up at the ceiling and sighed. Then the loop of conversation of the past two hours continued. “I can’t believe I _died_.”

Rick let Merle drone on with yet another monologue about his death. He tuned out this time around and thought back to Daryl. The way he responded to the dog. The way he responded to the books. The way he so eagerly sought out Rick’s hand now for communication. The way he still liked to pet Rick’s curls even though he had a beautiful pup that loved getting that kind of attention. Daryl was...unlike anyone he had ever known. Not because of his limitations, but because of his character and his personality that were flourishing now that Rick was able to communicate with the man. His strength and perseverance. His determination. And those eyes of his. Hauntingly blue. Innocent and eager. That smile, lopsided in the cutest way.

Merle was snapping his fingers. “Did you hear me? Earth to Rick. You can’t just ignore me like I’m dead...even though I technically did die.”

Rick shook his head as if it would help his thoughts disappear. 

“I’m sorry. I was distracted...umm...thinking about how devastated I am over your recent death.”

Merle rolled his eyes. “You are a shit liar, Grimes.”

“I am. But you are a bit of a drama queen for a straight guy.”

Merle let out a frustrated huff. “I was saying that since I’m stuck here overnight, you need to take care of Daryl.”

Rick nodded as he stood. “Absolutely. Of course. I’m heading out now.”

“I don’t just mean feeding him and talking to him. Remember...he don’t fall asleep without me laying down with him. You’re gonna need to do that tonight.”

The teacher nodded vigorously as he attempted not to reveal the affectionate feelings he’d been having towards the younger Dixon.

“Yeah. I can do that.”  
************************  
On the ride back to the farm, Rick turned on the radio right as “Sunshine of My Love” was coming on. He turned it up as loud as he could and tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel to the beat, picturing Daryl moving his head to the music, his hands against the speaker. 

Rick had so many plans. There were more braille books to order and he had been researching braille laptops. Daryl was just at the point where the flood gates were open. Now it would be the rush and flow of constant learning -- questions and communication. An insatiable hunger for knowledge, reaching out for it desperately like a flower to the sun.

After parking the car and walking into the house, Rick watched quietly as Daryl sat on the floor rubbing Blue’s belly, one of his new books spread open on the coffee table. 

He felt like a voyeur since he knew Daryl was unaware of his presence, so he stomped on the floor to alert the other man he was there. 

Daryl smiled wide and promptly got up to hug Rick, then felt around in the air looking for Merle. He grabbed Rick’s palm. M-E-R-L-E?

Rick responded, tracing letters against Daryl’s soft hands and speaking the words as he wrote them. “Merle. Night at hospital. Home in morning.”

It was clear Daryl was confused and frustrated. Rick was sure there were more questions he wanted to ask but he had a limited number of words to work with. Without the answers he wanted, Daryl balled up his fists and stomped, signs that a full blown tantrum was on the horizon. But before he could act out any further, Blue jumped up on him, whining for attention and surprisingly, it worked. 

Daryl unclenched his fists and turned his focus to Blue, kneeling and allowing the dog to rest his head in his lap, and he stroked him with careful, gentle fingers.

Dinner was an enchilada casserole recipe Rick had gotten from Aaron, and Daryl devoured it, eager to learn it’s word so he could ask for it again. Afterwards they put Blue on the leash and walked him around the perimeter of the fence line. The sky was cloudless, blue, the setting sun splashing sunbeams down to the earth like spotlights strategically aimed to show off something beautiful. A giant oak tree by Hershel’s farm house. A field of sunflowers in the distance. Daryl.

They spent the evening reading a children’s book together over and over again, Daryl’s fingers feeling the braille then getting the translation via finger spelling. Rick was able to teach him several new words as they walked their way through the story. And then it was bedtime.

B-E-D, Rick wrote and Daryl’s sweet smile instantly fell into a dramatic pout.

M-E-R-L-E, Daryl responded, repeating the word several times as Blue jumped up on the couch and rested his head in his master’s lap. They’d been talking about trying to wean Daryl off that need, especially now that the dog always slept in there now too. But Daryl just never seemed ready. 

Rick got up, took Daryl’s hand, and they walked to his room, Blue close behind them. He spelled into Daryl’s hand, explaining that he’d help him go to sleep, and although the younger Dixon still seemed concerned with Merle absence, he allowed himself to lie down in the bed, scooching over to leave room for Rick to join him.

Rick slid into bed, both of them in boxers and tee’s, and Blue curled up at the end of the bed. Daryl rested his head on Rick’s chest with an arm draped over the older man so could rest his fingers against Rick’s voice box.

“Oh right. You like a story.”

At the vibrations, Daryl sighed contentedly, popped a thumb in his mouth, and seemed to relax in Rick’s arms.

“A story. Hmm. I can tell you the story of how I became a teacher,” Rick said, then he wrinkled his nose in disinterest. “Nah, that’s boring. Oh, you know what I can tell you? I can tell you the story of a young boy who had struggles and how he grew and learned from them. Just like you’ll grow and learn despite your blindness and deafness. This boy...what the hell, let’s call him Rick. Rick knew from a young age that he was different from everyone else. When he was twelve he noticed how all of his friends talked about girls. About liking them, kissing them. Asking them to be their girlfriends. And young Rick didn’t quite get it. He felt like he was missing something because he didn’t want to kiss any girls. He didn’t want a girlfriend. He thought maybe a part of him was broken. But then he saw his best friend, Shane, kissing a girl in the school playground and he finally understood what the big deal was. He realized why people would want to kiss. But it’s not that he wanted to be kissing little Lori Miller. He wanted to be kissing Shane.”

He glanced down at Daryl and saw that his eyes were still open and he was “listening” intently so he continued, running his fingers through Daryl’s hair as he spoke.

“Eventually little Rick found out that there were other boys like him...boys who didn’t want to kiss girls. It made him feel better when he saw a sitcom on TV that showed boys like that. But he still felt like an outcast. Like no one would understand him. Like he’d be judged. When he was fifteen he told his sister, Gael. She was deaf like you, Daryl, but she could see. 

“I used sign language and told her that I was gay,” he continued, changing the story from third person to first. “And she hugged me and told me everything would be fine. And it was fine. Eventually. But it took a lot of perseverance and hard work and determination to let myself become who I really was. Just like it will take you a lot of perseverance and hard work and determination to to become who you are -- a man who can suddenly communicate with the world around him, seeing the light in the darkness for the very first time.”

“My mom and dad were crushed,” Rick said with a deep sigh as he continued. “They hated the thought that I’d have something making my life harder; their daughter deaf and their son gay -- both having to face adversities and challenges that other kids wouldn’t have to. So they hated it. But they accepted me. And they loved me.”

Daryl moved his hand to rest it over Rick’s chest, likely feeling the older man’s heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest.

“I’ll have to teach you what love means one day. It’s hard to explain really. It’s...it’s what happens when you connect with someone and know them, really _know_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to put the fear into everyone with that first line! But we needed some shock and awwwwwwww. If you've made it to the afternotes you know that Merle is alive and well!


	14. Sweet Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news all around:  
> A. I'm posting early because I have a sneaking suspicion that my Monday will be crazy busy and I'm afraid I'll forget.  
> B. I just realized this chapter is wicked long compared to my usual!

Merle eyed the dog suspiciously as he turned the bacon. He and his solitary ball had been back home for a week now and he was partially convinced that Blue was trying to give him a heart attack. It was like he went out of his way to sneak up on Merle like a silent ninja. Christ, he’d already died once this week.

“Rick!” Merle bellowed, even though Rick and Daryl were both at the kitchen table only a few feet away.

“Ain’t this dog s’posed to be attached to Daryl’s side?’

“Yeah,” Rick answered. “He’s only two feet away.”

“He’s crotch level and eyeing me up like a ham sandwich. And I don’t think I need to remind you that I can’t afford to lose any more balls this week.”

Rick laughed and turned back to Daryl to draw words in his palm. Then Daryl laughed too. 

“What the fuck are you goddamn clucking hens yacking about over there?

“Merle, Blue is at your heels a lot because you drop food like it’s your job. Daryl may have been winning that contest before, but since he’s on a strict fork and knife routine now, Ol’ Blue is counting on you.”

“It’s not just that,” Merle said, blowing them off. “It’s…okay...when it’s my shift to put Daryl to bed that silent ninja sits on the edge of the bed and...and...stares into my brain like he’s trying to read into my soul with those giant brown eyes. Like he knows every goddamn thing I ever done and he...he…”

“Loves you unconditionally? Rick asked. “We’re his family now. Daryl and I shower him with attention and affection. He just wants that from you, too.”

Merle flipped the bacon, then looked back down to Blue who he could swear just winked at him. Blue was like this peer-pressure machine and despite Merle not wanting to, he purposely dropped a half piece of bacon on the floor as he served breakfast.

“So I need to run into town today. I already let Daryl know,” Rick announced.

“Hot date?” Merle asked with his mouth full.

“Taking Eric and Aaron to the airport. They’re going on vacation.”

“Hmm,” Merle mumbled as he looked over at Daryl and back to Rick. “Wonder if we could ever take Daryl on a vacation. Let him explore somewhere new. He ain’t never been anywhere ‘cept for this house and the farm.”

Rick was nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I’ve been thinking about starting to get him out and about and meeting people that aren’t you or me. Now that we can explain to him what’s happening when someone new shakes his hand, he might take to it a lot better.”

“Cool,” Merle said as he relented and petted that damn dog on the head. It was silent then, other than the clang of forks against plates as all three of them ate. Merle knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Silence wasn’t his thing; he much preferred the sound of his own baritone. He pushed back from the table when he was done.

“So where do gays go on vacation?”

Rick rolled his eyes, an expression Merle was now intimately familiar with. 

“I don’t know where _all_ gays go, Merle, but Aaron and Eric are going to New York City.”

“Hmm. They’re going to see a play ain’t they? Broadway?”

“Maybe they're going to see the Yankees play?”

“Are they?” Merle asked with a knowing brow.

“No.” Rick answered, defeated. 

“So what play is it?”

Rick shook his head as if he hated having to answer.

“Kinky Boots.”

Merle roared with laughter. “I literally have a thousand jokes in my head about that and I can’t decide which one to use!”

Rick laughed as well. “You don’t have to use any. I concede. You win this one.”

Rick had left the house at 9:30. By 9:47 it already seemed weird with him gone. Merle had gotten so used to someone talking back instead of just talking to himself that the silence seemed strange--something he wasn’t used to anymore. 

He looked at Blue who had his head in Daryl’s lap but his eyes on Merle. Daryl seemed so relaxed when he sat there running a hand down the dog’s side, hell, he’d even started kissing the damn thing on the head. Merle was pretty sure that was how you got cooties but he didn’t have the heart to tell Daryl that. The younger Dixon had become so attached to the dog in such a short amount of time, and for a second Merle wondered if he wasn’t jealous that Daryl had someone...well, something...else in his life besides him.

He was going to have to leave soon. The horse stalls weren’t going to clean out themselves and a tree had fallen from the storm the night before. He’d need to cut that up and make sure there wasn’t any structural damage to the fence. So as much as he hated to admit it, he was glad that damn dog was going to be able to keep Daryl company while everyone else was gone.

He had an idea, though, before he started his work day and he took Daryl’s hand and started writing.

“W-A-L-K. D-O-G. M-E-E-T. H-E-R-S-H-E-L.”

Daryl frowned in confusion at the introduction of a new word - Hershel. He spelled it back into Merle’s hand and waited for clarification and Merle responded using words that Daryl knew. 

“H-E-R-S-H-E-L. N-I-C-E. F-R-I-E-N-D. L-I-K-E-S. D-O-G-S.

Daryl thought for a moment then nodded and kissed Blue on the head before standing, the dog looking up at Merle like he’d just beaten the man at a round of poker.

Merle wasn’t sure how he got the idea to do this. He probably should have asked Rick for advice first. But he’d waited way too long already to make this formal introduction and if he didn’t do it now, that pansy bartender was going to end up being the first person Daryl got to meet. He had to admit, he kinda liked that Eric guy -- not in a gay way of course. And he was fine with Daryl meeting him. But Hershel should be first.

After they took Blue around the farm and Daryl played fetch with him, Merle steered them to the big old farmhouse. He didn’t see any unfamiliar cars out front so he was luckily catching the vet between appointments. Knocking on the door, he looked at Daryl and then reached out to straighten his choppy hair and wipe a piece of breakfast off his cheek. Forks and knives didn’t solve everything.

Hershel opened the door already smiling, those kind blue eyes landing on Merle, Daryl, and Blue in that order. Merle was pretty sure the man smiled in his sleep, in the shower, and on the shitter. He’d never seen the vet without it.

“Hi there, Merle. And Daryl, right? And who's this little guy?” he asked as he knelt down and fussed over the dog. The younger Dixon’s eyes shifted down to the feel of his dog suddenly wiggling with excitement.

“That’s a dog my friend made me get. He’s uhh, good for Daryl’s...disabilities.”

“That’s great! I’ve been studying up on service dogs. Can I ask what he helps with, son? Anxiety? PTSD?” Hershel asked, his eyes on Daryl, waiting for a response. The old man’s interactions with Daryl had been so infrequent and quick that he really hadn’t realized something was wrong with him.

“Well, he’s actually blind and deaf. Been taking care of him his whole life and just finally got ourselves a real good teacher. So’s I thought maybe now that he can communicate and understand things better, I could like...introduce you formally.”

Hershel looked stunned. “Merle, I had no idea,” he said with a sincerity so strong it almost seemed solid. He turned to Daryl and reached out, stopping in mid-air to ask if he was allowed to shake his hand. 

“Lemme tell him somethin’ first,” Merle said as he grabbed Daryl’s hand and finger-spelled F-R-I-E-N-D. H-E-R-S-H-E-L.. “He can communicate with like spelling into his hand. Which kinda sucks because I gotta learn to spell right ‘else I’ll confuse the hell out of him,” Merle said with a nervous laugh.

“That’s fantastic! Like Helen Keller,” Hershel said, nodding in approval.

“You can shake his hand now if ya want.”

Hershel reached out without any kind of judgement or condescension, and to Merle’s surprise, Daryl didn’t flinch or kick or pout. He shook back, standing tall and proud.

“Nice to meet you, son,” Hershel said as Daryl kept a hold of his hand and started writing in it. 

Hershel, that smile possibly wider than usual, focused on Daryl’s fingers.

“Can you tell what he’s sayin? Takes some getting used to.”

“I can. He’s telling me his name is Daryl and he has a dog named Blue and a brother named Merle and a teacher named Rick.”

Merle bit on his lip to keep himself from crying. There was just something about seeing Daryl communicate so clearly with someone new. It made Merle’s heart swell and ache at the same time. Happy for having it and hurting for all the years he didn’t.

“Did he really put the dog first?”

Hershel laughed, but didn’t answer, as he was responding to Daryl.

“He don’t know all the words yet,” Merle said. “But he knows a hell of a lot more than he used ta. He’ll ask if he doesn’t know one.”

Speaking out loud as he spelled on Daryl’s palm, Hershel said, “My name is Hershel. I like your dog. Do you want some sweet tea?”

“I’m running late getting started on the chores, so we probably shouldn’t stay…” Merle paused as Daryl responded. “What’d he say?”

“He’d like a sweet tea. The chores can wait. Why don’t you boys come on in for a proper visit. Blue will love my little Tubalcain.” Hershel opened the door and welcomed them both in.

“What the hell’s a Tubalcain?” Merle asked, trying not to be too rude about it and likely failing. But Hershel, because he was Hershel, just smiled that smile and laughed.

“The name of my dog. Tubalcain was a blacksmith in the Bible. He was known for his strength.” Hershel looked over to Merle as they entered the kitchen. “He was also known to be a bit confused and goofy. First day home with the pup, after a long day of playing fetch with sticks in the yard, I came into the living room and caught him pulling the iron fireplace poker off it’s holder. He was trying to pick it up like a stick. Confused. Goofy. Strong. Working with iron,” Hershel laughed. “Tubalcain.”

“Guess that actually makes sense,” Merle admitted. “Blue...we named him Blue because he’s y’know, blue. A blue pit.”

“That’s a great name, too.” Hershel somehow had a way of saying that without it even sounding condescending.

“I wanted to name it Dog but I got outvoted.”

By the time Hershel had poured the drinks and put together a snack tray, Merle started to wonder if a religious guy like this would love to hear about his death. He probably would. 

Outside with sweet teas and a platter of cheese, crackers, and grapes, Merle watched as Daryl played with both the dogs in the yard. Despite his issues with Blue, he had to admit that he much preferred their dog to Hershel’s. According to the vet, Tubalcain was a mix between a lab and a chihuahua and Merle could not figure out how that was even possible, like logistically.

“Wish you’d have made the introduction sooner, Merle. He seems like a wonderful kid. Coulda been visiting me all this time. Keep an old man company.”

With his eyes still on Daryl, Merle answered. “Look I ain’t gonna lie. I weren’t no great brother. Never took him to school. Just recently found out he could actually be taught by Rick. He’s lived almost 18 years in the darkness and silence because I’m a moron.”

Hershel patted Merle on the knee. “You know, it was never your job to do those things. It was your parent’s job. And I knew your father and I know how he was to you and I’m sure he was the same with Daryl. You were a kid yourself most of the time he was growing up.” Sighing deeply, he took a sip of sweet tea and then continued. “The important thing is, look at him now! He’s smiling, laughing, meeting new people. You’ve done him good, Merle.”

“It’s Rick, really. Met him at a...bar, and he’s on sabbatical from teaching at the deaf school. Staying with us for the year. Only been a few months and look at everything he’s done for my baby brother.”

“Sounds like a good man.”

After a few minutes of watching Daryl and the dogs and the horses graze in the yard, Merle said “So, you being a religious man...you might be interested in this...I died.”

Hershel looked at Merle and cocked his head in interest. “Did you? Like a near-death experience?”

“No man. Like an actual death experience. Had surgery last week and they over-anesthetized me. Was dead one minute and forty-seven seconds ‘fore they brought me back.”

Hershel leaned back in his chair, clearly getting comfortable for a long chat. “So what was it like?” he asked. “A lot of folks talk about seeing a light, seeing lost loved ones, life flashing before your eyes.”

Merle scratched at his lonely right ball and resituated himself in his chair to face the vet. “Ain’t told no one this yet. But when I took that first gasp after they got me back it was like waking up from one of them dreams where a ton a shit happens in an instant. It was just all these memories, like, imprinted in my brain in the blink of an eye, like I was thinking at light speed.” He took a long sip of his drink before he continued.

“Pictured my pa holding this old frying pan we had. He used ta use it to smack us in the head. My mom crying. Hell, I barely even remember what she looked like, but I like somehow knew it was her. Then just snippets. Daryl fighting me on a bath, jar full of his rock collection falling on the floor. Cracking an egg. Rain. Daryl huggin’ me after learning to finger spell my name. Sizzling bacon.”

“That’s a lot. Kind of like a compilation of your memories. And apparently your love of bacon. That’s interesting.”

They both laughed at Daryl’s happy squeal as the dogs tried to lick him to death in the yard.

“How did you _feel_ when you regained consciousness?” 

Merle shook his head as he thought about it. “Only thing I felt was a need to get back home to my brother.”

Hershel smiled at him in a way that was probably how a father _should_ smile at his son. “You’re a good man, Merle. I don’t think you realize that. And I’m sorry about the frying pan. You know I called social ser…”

“I know, Hershel. And thanks for trying. Pa was a hell of a bullshitter when they came ‘round. And I was always afraid to say anything. ‘Fraid they’d just take me away instead of him and then Daryl would be with him alone, so’s I just stayed quiet.”

Merle looked up and noticed that the sunny day had given way to dreary, grey clouds. “We better get home. He hates rain.”

As the two men stood, Hershel asked, “I wonder why.”

Merle looked at him, confused. “Wonder why what?”

“Well, there’s probably something that happened that made him hate it so much. Don't you think?”

Shit. Merle wasn’t smart enough to think up psychological stuff like that. But now that he heard the question it made a lot of sense to ask. 

“You implied he’s not great about taking baths too, right? Some kind of fear of water maybe?”

“Hmm.” He was definitely going to have to talk to Rick about that. See if he could teach Daryl the right words to be able to understand the question.

Heat lightning flashed against the grey and Merle rubbed at Daryl’s hair. “Time to go, kiddo. You too, dog.”

Daryl knew what the touch meant and pouted, stomping a foot, Blue coming quickly to sit by his side. Merle took the younger Dixon’s hand and wrote “H-O-M-E. R-A-I-N.” That made him sulk even harder, but between Blue nagging him for pets and his understanding of not wanting to be caught in the rain, he relented on the tantrum and followed Merle back through the house. 

Daryl took Hershel’s hand before they left and scribbled into it. 

“What he say?”

“He said thank you for the sweet tea and he likes my dog,” Hershel said with that giant Hershel smile. 

“Well, I’d love to take credit but he didn’t get those manners from me. Must have been Rick,” Merle said with a laugh, and before he turned to leave he looked at Hershel with trepidation. “You the kind of religious guy that don’t like gays?”

“I believe we are all God’s children. Jesus never judged people like that and neither do I.”

“Okay. Cause my best fr...my friend, Rick...he’s a queer and if you don’t want him over I won’t push him on ya, but he’s a real good guy and I think you’d like him.”

“I’d love to meet Rick. My girls are both going to be in town the weekend after next. How about the three of you join us for dinner that Saturday night. Say 6:00?”

“Yeah. Cool. That'd be great. Thank you.”

Hershel watched as the Dixons walked down the porch steps. 

“Uh, you said three. Can Blue come, too?” Merle asked, suddenly having this overwhelming sense of camaraderie with the damn dog at the thought of him being alone. Merle hated being alone too, so he could identify. Plus, Daryl needed him anyways. It certainly wasn’t because he was starting to like the dog.

“I meant four,” Hershel said. “And you tell Daryl he can stop by and see me anytime.”

They walked at a pretty quick pace on the way home because the sky was getting darker by the moment and the wind was starting to flip the leaves on the trees upside down. He grabbed Daryl’s hand and gave it a squeeze to reassure him. When they got home, Daryl immediately went for one of his books and started to read through it with his fingers. 

Merle sat at the kitchen table and thought more about being alone, a feeling Daryl must have all the time without his hearing or sight. As much work as it’s been to take care of his little brother, Merle knew it wasn’t completely unselfish of him. Without having any good friends or a significant other, he’d always needed Daryl as much as Daryl needed him. And now with Rick and Blue, there was never any alone time at the house and really, that was just fine with Merle. But there was still something missing. He picked up his phone, hesitated just a moment, and dialed.

“Carol? It’s me, Merle. That ball cancer patient you haven’t been able to get out of your head yet.”

She laughed that polite little bird-like laugh of hers and it made Merle want to protect her from everything else in the world. He’d noticed some cigarette burns on her arms when he was in the hospital. He had some of the same and he knew they had something in common.

“Hard to forget you, Merle. So it’s literally Saturday. Exactly one week to the day that you left the hospital. Did you literally wait a week to call so you didn’t look desperate?”

“Guilty,” Merle said, surprised at the fact that he suddenly knew he’d never be able to lie to her.

“I like your honesty,” she said.

“I like your smile,” Merle flirted back. He almost surprised himself by complimenting her smile instead of her tits. But he knew it was because he wasn’t just looking for a roll in the hay with this woman. He wanted...more. “So’s I want to ask you out to dinner, but I need ya to meet my brother first, case you don’t like him then I don’t get my heart broke cause I can’t be with no one that don’t like my brother.”

She was quiet a moment on the other end of the phone, but Merle could almost hear her smiling. “You told me a lot about him in the hospital in between your really bad attempts at flirting and I would love to meet him.”

Suddenly it dawned on Merle that even _he_ was smiling. Hell, he might have been smiling most of the day. When did he start smiling so much? He heard Daryl’s giggle in the room, probably laughing over something the dog did, and he realized why he was happy -- he had a brother. He had a brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this brotherly chapter! Next chap will be up on Thursday! :-D


	15. Birthday Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've posted two one-shots over the past two weeks and both times they ended mid-sentence because apparently I no longer know how to cut and paste properly. Major thanks to those of you who pointed out these errors. Everything has been fixed now. 
> 
> Hopefully I've learned my lesson, but if you all notice I end something in mid sentence, please yell at me!

Daryl never wanted a break from learning. He was ravenous, insatiable, with a hunger that couldn’t be filled. Even Rick was surprised at how quickly the younger Dixon was able to learn new words and ask questions and understand concepts that he hadn’t expected him to comprehend for months. 

They’d spent the past weeks devouring book after book together. Rick taught him to use the braille laptop so he could speak quicker and he moved with lightning speed across the keys even though he only used two fingers. He’d become more insistent on his independence, taking Blue for walks alone, going to get the eggs before Rick or Merle woke up. He’d discovered what freedom felt like and he pushed the limits every day to have more of it. 

It was Friday and once Merle was home from work, showered, and sitting in his recliner with a beer, Daryl finally closed his books and focused on lavishing Blue with attention.

“So, I probably should have told you. But it’s his birthday,” Merle said as he pulled a small wrapped package out of his pocket. 

“Holy shit,” Rick said. “You’re damn right you should have! I didn’t get him anything.”

“You already gave him plenty, Rick. Ain’t no way I’m going to be able to pay you back for your time and all these books and the computer and…”

“Merle, I don’t want to be paid back. You should know that by now, right?”

Merle huffed and then knelt down beside his brother and scribbled words into his palm. “Happy 18th birthday,” he said as he wrote.

Daryl’s face lit up in surprise after Merle handed him the gift. The younger Dixon’s fingers traced the lines of the wrapping paper until his thumb slipped open the scotch tape. 

“What is it?” Rick asked.

“Deck of Uno cards. In braille,” Merle answered with a proud smile.

“That was a great fucking idea, Merle! How did you even find them? You don’t know how to plug in a computer much less google and order something.”

“Okay, first of all, that hole on the computer is hard to find and there were like six different holes and…”

“If I was crass and straight I’d say Carol is going to be really disappointed if you can’t find the right hole,” Rick said and Merle immediately burst out with laughter. 

“I concede. Christ, Grimes, if I knew you were gonna start busting my balls so much I’d have kept the cancer one so at least the right one would have back up.” He sat down by Daryl and started explaining the cards. They’d all gotten so quick with their fingers that conversations flowed much faster lately. 

“Hershel helped me find the cards,” Merle finally said. “He’s really looking forward to having us all over tomorrow night. He’s fine with the gays but maybe don’t be too gay.”

“Okay,” Rick said slowly. “And what exactly is too gay?”

“Don’t hit on him.”

“You said he was like seventy-five, dude.”

“I don’t know your taste, Rick,” Merle deadpanned.

Daryl handed Rick the cards and typed “Let’s play” on his computer screen.

Guess the lessons weren’t over for the day quite yet, Rick thought. An hour later, the three of them were playing Uno, Daryl with that constant smile, his cards in one hand and the other hand on a speaker that poured out the best of Van Halen, Blue by his side wagging his tail and Merle laughing about Daryl kicking both their asses at the card game.

When he’d first walked in the door of the Dixon house, Rick saw a young man who was joyless, sullen, with distant eyes, a stubborn streak, and a mouth that fell into a perpetual pout -- his only company a collection of rocks. He saw Merle, who was boisterous and angry...but mostly worried, afraid, and too damn hard on himself. 

Hell, before he walked into this house Rick knew he was a little lost himself. Seven years of teaching. Nothing in his life but work and the occasional chat with Eric and some of the guys at the Tavern. He hadn’t had a date since his first year of teaching and the reason that ended was because he apparently was paying too much attention to work and not enough to the relationship. His parents had retired to Florida and he hadn’t seen his sister since she took a job at an ad agency in New York. His life had become empty over the years and he was so busy working that he hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t that happy.

He was happy now. And so was Daryl. And so was Merle, albeit with a lesser number of nuts than he had when they first met. It wasn’t just about teaching a blind, deaf kid anymore. It wasn’t about taking pity on a man facing cancer. It was about these two men becoming his friends. Hell, his family. He couldn’t even imagine leaving in eight months when his sabbatical was over. 

After the fifth game, one win to Rick, one to Merle, and three to Daryl, the younger Dixon had fallen asleep with a hand still on the speaker and Blue cuddled up to his side. 

Merle turned the volume down. “Ain’t seen him fall asleep in the living room like this since he was five.”

“He’s more confident now. More comfortable.”

“Then why are we still taking turns laying with him til he falls asleep?”

Rick shrugged with a smile. “Habit maybe? A way for him to feel closer to us, and us to him?”

Merle got up, grabbed two more beers, and handed one to Rick.

“You know, Hershel said something the other day. Been on my mind.”

Rick’s hand fell to Blue's side and he patted the dog who was knocked out cold, tongue hanging out of his mouth with one paw on Daryl’s chest. 

“What’s that?”

Merle took a deep breath, a long guzzle of beer, then looked Rick in the eye.

“Been wonderin’ if maybe we can find out more about Daryl now that he can communicate about like...why he fights me on baths. I mean, we finally convinced him to shower by himself, but one of us gotta be sitting on the shitter waiting for him or else he loses his shit again. He’s terrified of rain. I’m wondering if maybe...there’s a reason he’s developed that fear, y’know?”

Rick nodded, his eyes on Daryl’s sweet slack face. “I’ve wondered that, too. I’ve been meaning to try to get him started on talking about his past. His feelings. Love. Hate. You know more abstract stuff.”

“I don’t like when he’s scared,” Merle said. For a boisterous loudmouth, when his voice was low and serious it could be heartbreaking. 

“I’ll see if I can ease into the conversation. Maybe after tomorrow night’s dinner. I don’t want to trigger him beforehand if the conversation doesn’t go well.”

Merle nodded, clearly pleased with Rick’s answer.

“So how’s things going with Carol?” Rick asked as he took another sip.

After a few minutes of thought, the older Dixon finally answered. “We’ve only been talking on the phone on account of I need her to meet Daryl ‘fore I actually take her out. After she meets him tomorrow at dinner over at Hershel’s, if she’s as good a woman as I think she is, I’ll ask her out for like...y’know...for food. She’s impressed that someone with my rough edges could be so woke about the gays. Maybe I’ll take her to Eric’s. Prove to those fuckers that I’m straight as an arrow.”

Rick laughed, snorting beer through his nose, and coughing as he tried to respond. 

Merle burst out laughing, too. “Did you just snort beer through your nose?”

“If I say no, will you believe me?” Rick asked, laughing so hard now that tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“I guess we really are all the same. Gay, straight, whatever. We all snort if we laugh too hard.”

“Actually, no. Gays can’t do that. At least we aren’t supposed to,”

“You gonna get yourself kicked out of the club, Grimes. You gonna need to find a woman that likes them girly curls ‘a yours.”

Rick put a hand to his hair in mock offense. “I’ll have you know some people love my curls.”

Merle glanced over at Daryl, knowing who Rick was talking about. “I know he does.”


	16. More Beautiful Than Any Damn Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to andthewales for pointing out that I was using sign language terminology incorrectly. I should have known better myself! So anyway, I wanted to explain the various teaching techniques so you all can better visualize the teaching process we are following. (I know it's sometimes confusing to follow)
> 
> First off, as andthewales pointed out I was using the phrase "Finger-spelling" when what I meant was writing letters into the palm. "Finger-Spelling" is actually using ASL and spelling something out. So please forgive that error. 
> 
> To explain how the teaching progresses went for Helen Keller (which is where I got all these ideas)-   
> 1\. Teaching by writing letters in the palm of the hand.  
> 2\. Teaching the blind/Deaf person regular sign language and teaching those who want to communicate back to him the modified tactile version of sign language so the blind/deaf person can feel the words as they are signed.  
> 3\. Deaf/Blind person can learn to "listen" by resting a hand on the other person's face, thumb on lip, index finger along nose and other fingers around the jaw and they can feel the words being said. Eventually it's possible to teach the blind/deaf to speak a little bit by having them feel the teacher's mouth, jaw, nose, and the voice box vibration as they speak.
> 
> Hope that clears some things up! Ask questions if you have them and let me know if I muck anything up! I love getting constructive criticism so I can make things better.

“I’d go with the blue one,” Rick said.

Merle glared at him and threw the tan button-up on the floor. “Who asked you anyway?” he growled.

“Um. You did. Five minutes ago when you interrupted our game of Uno to ask what you should wear tonight.”

Merle sighed. “I haven’t been on a date in a while. But I don’t want it to be obvious that I’m trying too hard. But also, I want it to look like I’m kinda trying because I do want her to know I like her.”

“Merle. Do you need me to pass her a note at recess and just ask her if she likes you?”

Merle was so nervous he couldn’t even focus on a good comeback. In fact, he actually considered the offer for a millisecond.

“What about the green one?” he asked as he pulled another shirt out of the closet.

“Nope,” Rick said confidently. “The blue makes your eyes pop.”

Merle scowled at Rick in that new way he had that was only a quarter serious scowl and mostly a shared camaraderie.

“I’m gay, Merle. I know what I’m talking about.”

“Well, I’m just saying...I’m pretty much taken so don’t get any ideas.”

“I’ll get us a fainting couch so I can collapse onto it in absolute despair that you can’t be mine,” Rick deadpanned.

“Well, if you're done with the theatrics, you can go help Daryl pick something out. And ummm...don’t try to make his eyes pop, okay? I don’t want to look like we’re fuckin’ twins or anything.”

“Merle, I assure you no one will mistake you two for twins.”

Merle squinted. “Why do I feel like that’s an insult?”

“Because it is,” Rick nodded with a laugh before he left the room.

Merle pulled on the blue shirt and tugged at the collar, which felt way too tight. Looking in the mirror, he turned from side to side. The shirt was tighter than he remembered, but it kind of showed off his broad shoulders and his eyes _did_ pop, so he decided it was the right shirt after all.

He sat on his bed and tugged on a pair of socks as he listened to Rick giggling in the other room; then Daryl burst out with a laugh of his own. It put a smile on his face, hearing Daryl with that untethered, open, full laugh. His brother laughed differently with Merle than he did with Rick. At first Merle figured it was because he knew him better. But it seemed more and more like with Rick...he laughed in the same way that Carol did when Merle told jokes he knew weren't funny.

He put on a touch of cologne and headed over to Daryl’s room, walking in on Rick unsuccessfully trying to pull a sweater over the younger man’s head.

“Do I smell?” Merle asked, shoving his neck towards Rick.

“Dude, I’m kinda busy right now. Can you smell yourself?”

Finally Daryl’s head popped through the top and his hands wriggled through the sleeves. Once he was free he reached out, pulled Merle close and smelled him.

“Alright, you guys discuss the cologne. I’ve got to actually dress myself too, y’know,” Rick said as he left the room.

Daryl took Merle’s hand and they started writing back and forth, so much more fluently these days than the stuttered start and stop of words that occurred when he was first learning.

\--- _She will like you. Even if you stink. Which you usually do._ \--- Daryl joked.

Merle pushed at him playfully. 

“How do you know she will?” Merle finger-spelled back.

\--- _Because I like you. And I have high standards._\---

Merle blinked in surprise at his words. He was learning so many, so fast.

“I love you too, kid. You amaze me every day. I’m so proud of you, baby brother.” Merle wrote.

\-- _Not a baby. A man now. 18!_

“Yeah. You’re a man. A good man.”

\-- _Is 18 the age I can get a driver’s license?_ Daryl wrote, unable to suppress his goofy smile.

“Very funny.” 

Rick and Daryl were on the sofa working on learning sign language. Daryl would be able to use it to communicate quickly and there was a way the younger man would be able to feel Rick’s hands as he signed against them. As with everything, he was picking it up at light speed. Frankly, Rick was more dreading having to teach it to Merle. They were interrupted by a knock at the door. 

“That’s her!” Merle said as he bolted upright from his recliner and started situating his shirt.

“Merle, relax, man. If you haven’t chased her off yet, she’ll probably be around a while,” Rick said as he gently tugged at Daryl’s arm so they were both standing.

When he opened the door, Carol was standing outside, wearing blue jeans and a pale pink blouse, a nervous smile on her face as she stood there with a pie in her hands.

“I didn’t want to come empty-handed so I made…” she looked down at the dish. “Apple pie. It’s apple. You said that was Daryl’s favorite and I thought maybe he’d like me better if he was chewing on pie.”

Merle could feel the smile on his face grow wide, his cheeks already sore with the unfamiliar strain of it. His face felt warm, like the sun was out even though it was clearly setting. Was he blushing?

“You look...real pretty,” Merle said, immediately chastising himself for sounding like a 2nd grader. Blue barked for attention at Merle’s side as if he was waiting for a proper introduction. 

He took the pie from Carol and held the door open for her. “This here’s Blue. He’s a fan of pie, too, so’s you probably already done won him over.” 

“Hey there Blue. I’ve heard so much about you,” Carol said.

“You talked about Blue?” Rick whispered to him.

“He and I have an understanding now,” Merle whispered in return.

Carol stood, immediately holding out a hand to Rick.

“Good to see you again,” she said, then her eyes flashed over to Daryl who was patiently waiting his turn for the introduction. 

She walked towards him and gently took a hand, spelling into his palm like she’d been doing it all her life.

Merle watched as Daryl’s smile grew and he coughed for attention. “We usually say out loud when we write to him because ummm..”

“We like to eavesdrop,” Rick finished.

Carol batted her eyelashes at Merle in the cutest way that made his stomach feel too light for his body, like he was on a high speed elevator rushing to the top of a high rise.

Daryl started writing back to her as she giggled and the instant ease and comfort between them was more beautiful than any damn sunset Merle had ever seen.

“We’re just making our introductions,” Carol said coyly.

After giving them a few minutes to talk, Merle finally spoke up. “Hershel’s gonna be expecting us. We should probably head over to the main house. It okay if we walk? It’s a nice night.”

“Okay, I don’t want to drop a spoiler alert here, but you know Merle is normally not this gentlemanly, right?” Rick asked, exasperated.

“He spent twenty straight minutes talking about how much he missed his left ball on our first phone call. I’m familiar with his occasional crassness.”

“Okay,” Rick shrugged. “As long as you know.”

“She thinks I’m fascinatin’ and complex,” Merle said with a wink as he picked up the pie and put an arm out for her to loop hers through.

It was a good ten minute walk to Hershel’s -- Rick, Daryl, and Blue walking ahead in an obvious effort to give Merle a few minutes with Carol before they arrived.

“He loved you. I can tell. Doesn’t he have the greatest smile?” It still amazed him watching Daryl do these things he couldn’t do earlier in the year. 

“He does. Almost as good as yours,” Carol said.

Merle looked away, eyes towards the house ahead. “I ain’t used ta datin’ girls that say nice things like that.”

“What do the girls you usually date say then?”

“Well, they say stuff like the restaurant I take ‘em to ain’t nice enough. Or point out when I got a stain on my shirt but don’t never point out all the times I don’t. One complained that I was too moody.”

“Well, you and I have some things in common that give us a right to be moody once in a while. And stain or no stain...you look really nice in that shirt. Makes your eyes sparkle,” she said with a smile.

Merle made a mental note to take Rick out for a beer one night. He really did know his gay shit sometimes, even though he still farted like a straight guy.

“I’m just real glad you were able to come tonight. Little nervous ‘bout Daryl meeting a bunch of new people at once. And if you’re by my side I won’t worry as much cause... I’ll be distracted by...you know...cause your smile and stuff.”

“I like the way you flirt,” she said.

“It’s clumsy and awkward. Daryls’ the one deaf and blind, but ironically, I’m the one ain’t no good at communicatin’ sometimes.” 

“I think you’re doing fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner party coming on Thursday!


	17. Soft Like Rose Petals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the dinner party!

When Hershel opened the door, Rick instantly took a liking to him. His smile was genuine, his eyes kind, and it was evident immediately that he’d raised two very sweet and polite young women. Hershel must have told his daughters how to use letters on Daryl’s palm. They were just as comfortable introducing themselves to Daryl as Carol had been, and it put a rare smile on Merle’s face. Rick nudged his shoulder and gave him a raised brow that said “told you so.”

Carol went to help Beth with the finishing touches to dinner as the rest of them took their seats around the table. Rick couldn’t help but feel that warmth in his heart when Daryl sought him out to sit next to.

\--- _Lot of people_ , Daryl scribbled.

\--- _All nice. The ladies are pretty. Look to be your age,_ Rick wrote, a flutter of heartbreak in his chest at the suggestion. His attraction to Daryl had only grown stronger as the younger man became more confident, more relaxed, more self-aware. Hell, he practically purred in Daryl’s lap when the younger man ran fingers through his curls, a thing he still liked to do for some reason. He was lucky Daryl couldn’t see the way Rick looked at him; he was certain his eyes would betray him. Even if it was okay for a student to date a teacher, even if Daryl turned out to be gay, it wasn’t right to try to keep the younger Dixon all to himself. The young man needed to explore, test the waters, discover what he liked and what he didn’t like. Rick could count on his fingers how many people Daryl had met in his life and he had a lot of catching up to do.

Daryl blushed, a tinge of pink heat warming up his cheekbones, and he shook his head in protest, the comment about the pretty girls suddenly making him shy.

\--- _You blushing?_

Beth and Carol came in and put out the bowls and dishes, tendrils of steam escaping from the hot dishes and spiraling towards the ceiling. Salad, green bean casserole, turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, corn, homemade rolls.

“So Rick, Merle says you work at the college?” Hershel asked.

“Yes,” he nodded as he loaded his plate with stuffing. “Been there seven years now.”

“That must be rewarding work. What do you teach?”

“English Lit. So a lot of Chaucer. Dickens. Shakespeare. Dylan Thomas and Robert Frost. Stuff like that.”

“Oh, I just read _Romeo and Juliet_ at the community college,” Beth said. “It was sooo romantic. I loved it.”

“It’s a beautiful story,” Rick agreed. “I have a braille copy on order.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? You got him readin’ Shakespeare?” Merle asked, surprisingly waiting to swallow before he spoke.

“Not yet. Soon,” Rick said with a proud smile as he watched Daryl trying the sweet potatoes with one hand and feeding Blue a piece of turkey under the table with the other.

As the conversations continued around the table, Rick would take Daryl’s hand and tell him what was being talked about so he could be included. They talked about each of the horses, how Maggie was doing at her job as a CNN producer, and how Hershel still thought Bethie was too young to date. They talked a lot about the farm itself and Hershel suggested that Rick and Merle should take Daryl out riding one day. When Rick translated that one, Daryl’s smile spoke of his definite interest in taking up the offer.

After dinner there were multiple desserts. Rick took a slice of Carol’s apple pie. Daryl took one of everything -- the apple pie, a chocolate eclair parfait that Beth made, Hershel’s famous coconut cake, and a couple of Maggie’s homemade chocolate chip cookies. He insisted that he was conducting a very scientific taste test then confirmed afterwards that it was a four-way tie for first place. But Rick was so used to reading Daryl’s face that he knew the apple pie was his favorite.

As Merle, Carol, and Hershel took care of the dishes, Merle undoubtedly still trying to impress Carol although he didn’t need to -- she was clearly hooked -- the rest of them stayed in the living room, Rick watching as Beth plucked out each kind of flower from the centerpiece and handed it to Daryl, allowing him to feel it before she taught him the name of each one by writing it’s letters into his palm.

They all moved to the porch a little after eight, enjoying the warm light from the candles they had lit and an overall glow from the full moon and cloudless sky. Rick sat next to Daryl on the patio steps as the others chatted nonstop at the outdoor table. 

\--- _What are you thinking about?_ , Rick asked.

Daryl looked at him, biting his lip and looking hesitant and nervous.

\--- _You said what the girls look like._

\--- _Yes, they are both look very pretty_

After a few moments Daryl responded, spelling his letters much slower than normal as if he was trying to stop himself from finishing the sentence.

\--- _What about me? What do I look like?_

Rick held Daryl’s hand, procrastinating a moment as he tried to figure out how to answer.

\--- _You have beautiful dark blue eyes. Like the ocean and the sky mixed together. You have soft brown hair that always falls over one eye. Your ear sticks out one side. It’s cute,_ Rick said as he ran a finger along the curve of Daryl’s ear. --- _You have a smile that makes the sun shine brighter and the birds chirp louder.---_.

Rick could feel his heart beating against his chest. It was such a quiet, private moment between them, the conversations from the patio table disappearing like smoke in the wind. Daryl smiled then softly put his fingers against Rick’s cheeks, moving them along his brow, around his eyes, down his nose, lingering over his lips then roaming into the other man’s curls.

Daryl dropped his hands to Rick’s. --- _Do you want to know what you look like?_ .

Rick nodded, almost in a trance as he drank in how beautiful Daryl was in the glow of the moon. Daryl began to write.

\--- _Strong brow. Fuzzy beard that is better than Merle’s. Full lips, soft like rose petals. Pretty curls._

As an English professor, he was impressed that Daryl was using a simile before he even knew what one was. As a man that was falling deeper and deeper, nearly drowning in this wide, wild ocean that was Daryl Dixon, he was filled with warmth and desire, with a closeness to this man like no other he’d known. He took Daryl’s hand and pressed it to his own throat so the other man could feel his words even though he wouldn’t really know what they were.

“Thank you, Daryl.”

Later, after they got home and Merle spent nearly an hour by Carol’s car saying good-bye, he came inside rubbing his cheeks with his hands. “Smilin’ fuckin’ hurts, bro.”

Rick laughed, shook his head, and scribbled the translation into Daryl’s hand. The two brothers sat on the couch and fell into a long conversation spotted with laughter. Rick could hear them all the way in the bathroom as he prepared for bed by shedding his clothes and stripping down to just his boxers and T-shirt. He paused at the mirror over the sink and studied his own face, following the lines of his jaw with his fingers. He laughed and shook his head. It was just a conversation, just learning. Nothing more. And that was fine. It really was. Rick would take anything he could get with Daryl, even if it was just this intimate but innocent friendship they’d developed.

A bang at the door snapped Rick out of his thoughts. He pulled it open to face Merle. 

“What man? I coulda been trying to take a shit.”

“Nah. You weren’t. You only poop with the fan on so you think I won’t hear the farts. Listen, I need you to do me a solid, man.”

Rick rolled his eyes and followed Merle back out to the kitchen. “Look, I been with Carol all night just talking and just, you know...a couple kisses by the car. And without getting into too much graphic detail, I need to go to my bed. In my room. Alone for the night.”

Rick just looked at him with raised brows.

“You know to jack it.”

“Christ, Merle, I know what you mean,” Rick answered.

“I need you to take my shift putting Daryl down tonight. And then maybe tomorrow we can talk to him about a few serious things like his fear of water and sleeping alone and all that. Maybe try to break him of this nighttime habit of his.

“Fine.”

Merle headed back towards his room like he was on a mission.

Daryl was already in his room with Blue, Rick walking in just as he was pulling his nightshirt on. Rick squeezed his shoulder to let him know he was there. They crawled into bed together like they did every other night, Blue lying across the bottom of the bed and Rick lying on his back with Daryl tucked into his arm, the younger man’s loose hand resting on Rick’s chest so he could feel the vibrations of him talking. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking about something. I’ve been doing some research on how Helen Keller learned to talk. I think we can try it. I’d...I’d love to hear your voice, my name on your tongue,” Rick sighed. “I think you’d be so excited to learn it, like you are excited about everything. You were so engaged tonight, talking with everyone, adding to the conversations. You are absolutely amazing. You know that?” Daryl, of course, couldn’t hear the words, but Rick had no doubt he’d grasp the emotion.

Daryl moved his fingers to rest on Rick’s lips. He did that sometimes, choosing either to feel the vibrations against his throat or chest or to feel the movement of his lips. But this time was different. Not rested fingers, just a thumb, rubbing slowly over his bottom lip. 

_Soft like rose petals_ Rick remembered the feel of the words on his palm. Keeping his eyes on the ceiling, because the sight of Daryl right now might be too much, Rick slowly kissed Daryl’s thumb, then grabbed his hand and pulled it down to hold it tight against his chest. His heart was thudding, loud. Practically pounding echoes into the walls. Overpowering. It was almost like it was in stereo. Christ, was he having a heart attack? He wished Daryl would fall asleep so he could leave, but he knew the other man’s breathing patterns and could tell he was still alert and wide awake.

As if Daryl could feel his fears, he pulled their entwined hands closer to his own chest, and then Rick realized it wasn’t just _his_ heart that was beating like the pouring rain. He closed his eyes and felt their heartbeats slow and synchronize to the same pace. A slow, rhythmic, peaceful, beat that, for the first time, lulled Rick into sleep before Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still so much more to come!


	18. Water

Merle steered the combine around the far corner of the field, thankful for the AC in the cab of the vehicle. The sun was bearing down like a hot iron on a pair of wrinkled khakis. Normally he hated harvest days. They were long and hot and exhausting. But today? Today he couldn’t help but plow with a smile on his face. 

He couldn’t have asked for dinner at the Greene’s to go any better and he couldn’t believe how at ease Carol had been with Daryl, the two of them talking like there weren’t any barriers at all. 

Carol was amazing, perfect in a way he’d never thought was possible. She _got_ him. She understood why he had his rough edges and she embraced them instead of trying to change him like other women had. They’d both been through unbearable abuse. They’d both had their hearts broken and their skin scarred. They both wanted someone to love and accept them for who they were. She was easy to fall in love with. And though it had only been a couple weeks on the phone and one dinner date, he was certain he was falling hard and fast. It wasn’t the gradual, steady fall that was typical between two people. It was more like a powerful rock slide that would demolish any guardrail in it’s way.

The day actually went faster than he expected, thanks to Carol spinning circles in his brain. By the time he was finished, the sun had started sinking back down to the horizon, oranges and pale blues fighting for dominance in the sky in a battle of night versus day.

It was a different kind of world to have things to look forward to. Merle didn’t really have experience with that. It was always just work, taking care of Daryl, and just barely getting them both by each day. But now? He looked forward to talking to Carol. Looked forward to finding out what new things Daryl had learned while he was working. Looked forward to having a beer with Rick after a hard day and just shooting the shit.

When he walked into the house, the silence immediately concerned him. At one point silence was all that house had, but now, with Rick and with Daryl, with Blue, it was usually filled with laughter, excitement, music, new words. He looked into the living room to see Blue’s head resting on Daryl’s lap, his eyes gazing up at his master, not even sparing a moment to see who’d walked in through the door. The younger Dixon had his head buried into Rick’s neck as the teacher held him tight. Merle could tell by Daryl’s trembling shoulders that he was crying.

“Shit. What happened?” Merle asked as he rushed towards his brother, sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“We had that talk,” Rick said softly.

Merle’s heart sank like the sun of a dying day. “What...what did he say?” Merle asked as he rubbed a hand over Daryl’s trembling back.

Rick had tears in his eyes as he nodded towards the laptop. “You can read his side of the conversation. He was using the computer to answer me.”

Merle picked up the computer and rested it on his lap. 

“Merle?” Rick said before he could start reading, his voice shaky and uneven. “It’s a _good_ thing that he talked about this. He’s been holding all this in like an unpinned grenade, ready to blow at any moment. He needed to let this out. Needed to feel this pain and learn to deal with it. Don’t be upset when you read it.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel, Rick,” Merle said sullenly and he looked down to read Daryl’s half of the most painful conversation that Merle could imagine.

_...Yes. I know what you mean._

_...Yes._

_...Yes._

_...My pa. He wasn’t nice to me like you and Merle are._

_...He hated me._

_...because he wouldn’t have done the things he did if he didn’t hate me._

_...beat me. Hurt me._

_...with a belt, or his fists, or cigarette burns. I know I have scars. I feel them and I know you can see them._

_...Yes. I was young. I don’t know how old. And he did it every time. I’d fuss or splash and he’d have no patience. He’d push me into the bathwater and hold me there as I fought to breathe. That’s why I don’t like water on my face. It makes me feel like I can’t breathe again. Like I’m drowning._

_...Because I’m afraid he might come back and I won’t realize it’s him and then he’ll try to drown me again._

_...Dead? So he’ll never be back here? He can’t sneak up on me?_

_...He hit Merle, too. I didn’t know how to help him. He helped me. He’d fight my Pa to get his attention off me. A lot of Merle’s scars are my fault._

_...But I could have tried. I could have tried to help. Fought, Screamed. Tried to distract him somehow._

_...I’ve always been afraid that he might be here, in the corner hiding._

_...Yes. If I feel someone lying with me, I know someone’s there if he comes. It makes me feel safe._

_...No. Please don’t stop. I understand he’s dead now. But I still get scared at night. Can you please not stop?_

Merle’s eyes stung with tears, his hand covering his mouth as he read. “Jesus.”

He put the computer down and Rick knew to move, giving the older Dixon room to sit next to Daryl and pull him into a long-overdue brotherly hug.

“I’ll cook tonight,” Rick said and he left Merle, Blue and Daryl alone in the living room. 

Daryl hugged Merle tighter than ever, clinging to him like Merle was the only tether in a stormy sea.

Eventually the tears subsided and the two men started talking in finger spells.

“I didn’t know you remembered,” Merle wrote. “I always hoped you’d just forgotten. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t explain to you that he was gone forever. It didn’t dawn on me that you would think he was still around. I’m sorry you had all this fear.”

 _Not your fault._ Daryl kept repeating.

“You know you're safe now, right?”

Daryl nodded in understanding. _He was mean and scary. I’m glad he’s dead._

“Me too, kiddo. Me too.”

After dinner, Daryl was sitting on the couch with Blue, engrossed in a book.

“It okay if I run over to Carol’s for a few?” Merle asked Rick. The elder Dixon was sullen, heartbroken. He needed to talk to someone who would understand his anguish.

“Yeah, fine,” Rick said. “Take all the time you need. I can help him get to sleep.”

“You think it’s like...healthy...that we keep doing that? Is it like...enabling his fear?” Merle asked.

Rick ran a hand over the back of his head before answering. “I don’t think we need to rush on that. Now that he’s given voice to his fears and his pain? I think he’ll be more prone to nightmares. I’ll sleep with him. You go see Carol.” The teacher patted Merle on the shoulder and then started doing the dishes.

“Thanks, man,” Merle said, a raw sincerity in his voice that he didn’t often use.

As Merle drove to Carol’s he felt like all his faded scars were ripped back open, bleeding and raw. His head had been aching from his struggle not to cry. He didn't know what he’d been thinking. How could he not realize that Daryl was living in fear all this time? Just because he couldn’t see or hear or talk didn’t mean he couldn’t process feelings and emotions. It didn’t mean he was spared painful memories. And Merle should have _known_ that.

He pulled up to Carol’s house, got out of the car, and started up the stairs of the porch. Carol already had the door open when he reached the top, surprised, but not displeased, to see him. 

“What happened?” she asked, gently and without judgement. Merle could feel the wet streaks of tears down his cheeks and he let her pull him into a hug. Not normally one to allow comfort or sympathy, he was surprised at how much her hug helped to center his breathing. 

“Daryl. He remembers everything I’d hoped he’d forgotten. The abuse, the anger, the hurt.”

Carol led him into the living room as he spoke and he took a seat on the couch, letting his head fall to his hands. “Remembers my old man trying to drown him during baths. Reason he can’t fall asleep without Rick or me is cause he didn’t realize Pa was dead. Thought he was just gone and was afraid of him showing back up when he was alone and defenseless. I let him live with this fear all these years and never realized…”

“Merle, he’s a survivor like both of us. He’s going to have those memories and it’s okay that he does. It’s probably for the best that he can talk about them now and to understand and be relieved at the fact that his monster is gone forever and never coming back.”

She sat on the couch next to him as he sobbed, talked about some of his own tortured memories, allowing her to see a side of himself he’d never even let himself look at. She didn’t say any more than she needed. Didn’t do any more than rub his back and listen. An hour later, when his eyes were finally dry, he took her hand. “Thank you for just...you know. Listening to an ole’ redneck cry like a damn baby.”

Carol smiled, one of her gentle hands on the side of his cheek. “My ex never cried. Never felt sorrow or guilt or sadness. When you don’t allow those things all you have is anger. The scars on all of us are proof of that. Your sadness, your openness to admit to the sadness? It’s how I know you’ll never hurt me.”

“I won’t,” Merle said firmly. “And I won’t let anyone else either. Ever.”

Carol smiled, leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Let’s do something nice tomorrow. You, me, and Daryl. How about a picnic? And some fishing by the lake?”

Merle couldn’t help but smile, a warmth in his belly that felt like the peace and comfort of a thick blanket. “Yeah. Maybe Rick can come, too?”

She nodded with a smile. “And Blue. I know you wouldn’t want to forget him.”

Merle chuckled and wiped a sleeve across his face to rid it of the remaining tear streaks. “I think that sounds really nice,” he said as he stood and headed for the door. “Thanks for...y’know.” There was just too much to specify all he had to thank her for. “Just thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the water thing what you all expected? I'm hoping the big shocker was that Daryl hadn't had any way to know his pa was dead and that he'd been living in fear of him returning all those years.


	19. Murdering Fish and Worms

Rick watched as Daryl and Carol talked, tracing letters into one another’s hands with lightning speed, as Blue sat beside them watching their fingers as if he could understand every word. He wanted to give Daryl privacy to have his own relationships without stepping in to translate every time, but it was driving him crazy wondering what they were talking about. He didn’t want to miss a single thing with Daryl. Didn’t want to miss him learning a new word or saying something funny or laughing. When he blushed and giggled at something Carol said, she looked over. Damnit, what was he missing? What were they talking about!?

He was dragged out of his thoughts by Merle snapping fingers in front of his face. “If you weren’t gonna fish, you shoulda at least brought your knittin’ needles, ya pansy,”.

Rick turned his attention back to the older Dixon. “Daryl isn’t fishing and you’re not giving him a hard time,” he whined, grimacing at the squirmy worm Merle was holding up to his face.

“This ain’t about Daryl. This is about you and me,” he said as he pointed to each of them with the worm. “Two grown men partakin’ of one of America’s favorite pastimes.”

“Murdering fish and worms?”

Merle rolled his eyes. “Real men jump at the opportunity to provide food for their family.”

“I think we both know that I’m barely a man. I can’t even drive stick.”

Merle put his worm on the hook. “Well, can’t argue with that.”

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Rick asked as Merle cast the line.

“A whole lotta none of your damn business is my guess. Let them talk. I think Carol’s gonna be around a long, long while. Want them to become good friends.”

Rick nodded in agreement and leaned back against a fallen tree to watch what was probably the most boring sport in the history of mankind -- staring at a string in the water.

“Beer would make this better,” Rick said.

“You’re not wrong,” Merle said with a laugh. “But this here’s morning fishing. Beer is a night fishing thing. Guess we’ll have to come again so you can get the full experience.”

Rick was already thinking of excuses on how to get out of it. “Speaking of experiences...you heard Hershel the other night. He thinks it would be good for Daryl to be around the horses. I say we go for a ride later.”

Merle was already shaking his head no. “No way. A horse throws him and…”

“Let’s just give him a chance to be close to them a while and see how they do. He has a remarkable way with animals, surely you know that.”

“If a chicken decides it don’t like ya no more, then you just got an angry chicken. If a _horse_ decides against ya, you got a whole lotta more problems.”

“He knows to be gentle. How about we come out and help you brush them and if all goes well, we try for a ride? Daryl and I can ride on the same horse the first couple times.”

“Brush em’ huh? How about you come out and help me shovel the shit?”

“I’m gonna take a hard pass on that one.”

“Well, boys,” Carol said suddenly, startling them both at how quietly she’d walked over from where she’d been with Daryl. “I took care of the birds and bees talk, so you're welcome.”

“How did that come up?” Merle asked at the same time Rick asked, “What did he say?”

“Why didn’t he come to me?” Merle asked, not giving Carol any time to answer anything.

“Did you teach him any new words? I should know what they are since I’m his teacher,” Rick added.

Carol took a deep breath ready to start answering, but Merle spoke up again instead. 

“Does he like Beth? Is it Beth? Or Maggie? I think it’s Beth. But Hershel don’t want her datin’ yet so…”

“It doesn’t have to be anyone specific,” Rick interrupted. “He’s eighteen, he’s probably just…”

“Stop talking!” Carol shouted with a laugh. “Jesus, I didn’t think you’d both get so worked up over it.

Daryl had walked closer, but was busying himself with Blue and running his fingers through the dirt and sand looking for rocks.

“So...how was the talk?” Merle asked as he handed his rod to Rick so he could concentrate on Carol’s answer.

“He just wanted to talk about some things. We talked. The end,” Carol said coyly.

“What new words did you teach him?” Rick asked, using that angle to try to get a sense of how the conversation went.

“I taught him the word secret,” she deadpanned. 

Later that day after Carol went back home, Rick brought Daryl out to the stables where Merle was hard at work in the stalls.

“Oh shit,” Merle said when he noticed them. “You were serious about this.”

“You gotta give him some freedom, Merle. He’s so eager for independence.” Rick said.

Daryl stood by quietly with his hands behind his back just as Rick had suggested. His restraint was impressive. Rick knew he was dying to know how the conversation was going.

Twenty minutes later, Merle was finally convinced to let Daryl interact with the horses. He stood by and watched as Rick spelled into his younger brother’s hand and led him to a calm, chestnut horse named Confidence. He stood far enough away to give Daryl some room, but close enough to pull him back if anything happened. Merle took a break from shoveling shit to watch.

As always, Daryl connected with the animal almost immediately, his gentle hands on each side of the horse’s face stroking her softly. Confidence nosed against Daryl’s chest nickering a calm, friendly greeting. It was amazing to watch Daryl having his silent conversations with animals. He walked slow and cautious to the horse’s side and ran his hand down the animal’s flank. 

Rick moved closer and put a hand on his back to remind him he was nearby. Daryl took a moment to reach for Rick’s hand to write … _Pretty._

Merle put his shit shovel down and handed his little brother the brush. 

“He’s happy,” Merle said softly. “Look at him.”

Rick nodded, feeling jealous for a moment and longing for the times where Daryl used those gentle hands to play with his curls. Jealous of a goddamn horse. That’s what it had come to. 

Merle pushed a brush into Rick’s hands. “Why don’t you make yourself useful. You can brush Courage over there at the end.”

By the time the shit was shoveled and the horses were brushed, Merle had become more comfortable with the idea of going for a ride and he got Rick up to speed on how to control the animal. He saddled up the horses and put out a footstool to help Daryl and Rick get onto Confidence, then put a foot in the stirrup to swing himself onto Courage.

“Just once around the perimeter of the property. You guys follow me. Let me know if he gets scared or anything and we need to dismount.”

“We’re good,” Rick announced, his chest pressed against Daryl’s back, hands wrapped around him and holding the reins. Daryl’s hands quickly found their place on top of Rick’s and the teacher sighed with a sense of peace and contentment that he wasn’t sure he’d never felt before.

The sun was warm on his face, but the rest of him was cool in the autumn air. He pressed closer to Daryl for the warmth and the other man ran a hand up and down his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze as if to say _this is nice_.

As they rode, Rick made plans for the coming months. He had new books on order, and he’d been studying Helen Keller and was starting to think it possible that he could teach Daryl to “listen” by resting a hand against the other person’s lip and jawline. 

He thought it would be a good idea to keep getting Daryl involved in meeting new people and he made a mental note for the three of them to go to Eric’s Tavern soon. There was still so much to do for this young man. It wasn’t going to be possible to do it all in one year and he was already dreading going back to Alexandria University. Daryl needed him so much more than any of those kids. And he was quickly starting to realize that he needed Daryl. In so many different ways.


	20. The Tavern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! I'm posting Monday's chapter a bit early because I have a pretty hectic schedule tomorrow.
> 
> Even better news! I just finished writing chapter 25 and as it turns out, I need more chapters to end this. So anticipate around 28 instead.

The bell jingled above the door as Merle, Carol, Rick, and Daryl entered. It was a little after noon on a Tuesday and the place only had a few tables with customers. The Jesus looking guy was in Merle’s old spot at the bar and as they walked by, the older Dixon squeezed Carol’s hand in his, pointing proudly to his girlfriend and mumbled “Told you I wasn’t a fag,” as they walked by.

Paul laughed, shook his head, and gave the redneck a thumbs up. “I made twenty bucks that day.”

“Merle Dixon, as I live and breathe,” Eric said with his usual flair as he tossed a rag over his shoulder. “You didn’t die of cancer.”

“It’s my favorite twinky barkeep,” Merle said as he reached out his hand to shake. “This here’s Carol. She admires how enlightened I am to have queer friends.”

“So you're here to show off your friendly local gays. That’s nice,” Eric said with sarcasm and an over-embellished nod. “Hi Carol. Nice to meet you. Your first drink is on me for taming the beast here.”

All four of them sat down at the bar and Eric moved over to Daryl, nodding a hello to Rick first. 

“Daryl, I presume?”

“Yes,” Rick said as he traced letters saying ‘this is Eric’ on Daryl’s palm. “You can reach over and shake his hand. He’ll probably try to spell a greeting into your hand like I mentioned.

He reached out his hand and Daryl grabbed it, confident and firm, giving him a quick shake then moving to write his letters.

“‘S kinda hard to get used to that,” Merle said. “If you don’t understand one a’ us can translate.”

Eric stayed focused on Daryl’s fingers as he listened. “He’s got it.”

“What’s he saying?” Rick and Merle asked at the same time. 

“Oh my God, you two are so damn nosy,” Carol groaned. 

“He told me his name and that he’s heard that I’m a nice friend.” Eric turned to Rick, “This is amazing, Rick. He didn’t know anything just five months ago and now he’s completely comfortable making idle chit chat.”

“Not because of me,” Rick said humbly, “He’s just a quick learner. He deserves all the credit for this.”

Eric took their drink orders and grabbed a few beer glasses from the back counter. He put a can of soda in front of Daryl and poured a Foster’s for each of the others.

“Well, it’s a damn shame he’s blind and deaf for sure, but he definitely inherited the good looks in the family,” Eric announced as he looked back at Merle. “So he’s got that going for him.”

“No offense taken,” Merle said with a wave of his hand. 

“No. Take the offense. It was meant to be taken,” Eric deadpanned.

Carol giggled at the exchange. “Don’t worry, Merle. I still think you’re handsome.”

Eric laughed. “I’m just guessing that if I ever _did_ give you a compliment you’d shove your fist down my throat,”

“Shows what you know,” Merle snarked back. “I wouldn’t. God knows what was in your throat last.”

“Hi guys,” Aaron said as he came up behind them. 

“Carol, I’d like to introduce you to what was in my throat last.” The whole group burst out laughing. “This is Aaron.”

“Jesus, Eric. There’s a lady present,” Aaron said, shocked.

“She’s no lady! She’s my girlfriend!” Merle said in an attempt to defend and compliment her in a way he immediately recognized was a complete failure. Never one to take offense and always seeming to understand Merle’s true meaning behind his cobbled together words, Carol just smiled and stifled a laugh.

“It’s okay. I already decided we like her and she can handle herself in a pervy conversation. Am I wrong?” Eric asked the petite woman by Merle’s side.

“When Merle and I first met we spoke at length about his right testicle. For hours. So, yeah. I have experience handling conversation about a man’s junk.”

That got a bar full of hoots and hollers and a high five from Eric. Carol just had this amazing sense of sweetness and spunkiness and hearing her handle Eric’s crassness just made Merle fall even harder. 

They continued their visit, chatting for hours. Rick talking to Paul about how he’d been teaching Daryl. Daryl and Aaron in a private palm writing conversation. And Carol, Merle, and Eric discussing everything from _Star Trek_ to boxers versus briefs to an argument over the necessity of ironing.

Merle felt his phone buzzing in his pocket as he listened to Eric’s theory that Spock and Kirk were in love with each other. He found that highly illogical, but he was willing to listen. 

He pulled out his phone, saw an unrecognizable number, and answered it, ready to tell off a telemarketer, one of his favorite pastimes. 

“‘Lo?” he answered.

“Merle? Hey, it’s Shane from Walsh’s Training and Adoption Center. How are you?”

Merle frowned into the phone and looked over to Daryl. His instincts had always been to expect the worst. What the hell was this? Are they going to try to repo Blue for some reason? There were no outstanding bills and he was about to go into a tirade about how Shane would have to get Blue over his cold, dead body, but other man continued before Merle could respond.

“I was hoping to actually talk to Daryl. Would you be able to translate for me?”

“Why you wanna talk to Daryl?” Merle asked suspiciously. “He ain’t done nothing wrong.”

Shane laughed on the other end of the line. “Of course he didn’t. I’m calling to offer him a job.”

“What?” Merle asked louder than he expected it to come out. All the chatter around him ceased as he walked over to Daryl’s stool.

“I usually hire school kids during the summer to come spend time with the dogs -- walk them, play with them, socialize them. I’ve noticed that the extra attention really helps and I’d like to hire someone throughout the year. It’ll be two hours a day, Monday through Friday. Can do $15 an hour.”

“Huh,” Merle said. He’d never pictured Daryl earning a paycheck, but he could still remember never picturing him sitting at a bar and chatting with strangers. He met Rick’s eyes and covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “Fucking Shane,” he said. “Wants to offer Daryl a part-time job with the dogs.”

Rick’s eyes lit up. “That’s fantastic! Want me to see what he thinks?”

“Don’t need you to translate for me, Grimes. I can talk to him myself.” Back into the phone he said “Walsh? I’ll talk to him and get back to you later today. That alright?”

“Yeah, man. That’s great. I’ll talk to you in a bit then.”

Merle moved to sit by his brother and started telling him the news, watching his younger brother’s expression the whole time. It never got old being able to watch his features as he understood words and sentences. To try to read his body language and facial expressions. 

The younger Dixon’s jaw dropped after Merle wrote the word J-O-B.

“What do you think?” Merle wrote. “It’s okay to say no if you're nervous.”

“... _Not nervous. Excited. I want to be my own person. Did I say that right?_ ”

Merle rubbed his hand over Daryl’s mop of hair and answered. “Yes you did, buddy I’ll tell him you accept. Congratulations.”

“... _Merle. Thank you for getting Rick. Thank you for everything you’ve given me.”_

“Ain’t given ya near enough,” Merle wrote. 

“... _If it weren’t for you, I’d never know words or have a job or have friends._ ”

The thing about Daryl, it still didn’t take much to excite him. When he lived alone in the dark and silence he would smile ear to ear and squeal over finding a new rock. Not much had changed. He was still so acutely thankful for everything he had even though he was getting it way later in life than he should have. 

When Merle got back to his seat, he put his cell down on the counter and it immediately started ringing again. The name Andrea lit up like the sun and Merle grabbed it, hoping Carol hadn’t seen. It just wasn’t the right time to bring it up. “I’m gonna take this outside. Work related.”

By the time he came back inside there were two new faces at the bar, both women, and both hanging all over Daryl.

“Merle, want you to meet some friends,” Rick said as he held out a hand to stop him from getting back to his seat. This is Connie and Kelly. They work with me at the college. Connie teaches history and Kelly, sociology.”

They both greeted Merle with unreadable sign language and huge smiles.

Merle shook their hands and nodded in greeting, not sure if he should spell into their hands or ask Rick to translate.

“They both read lips, so speak clearly and face them,” Rick said. 

“Nice to meet you ladies,” Merle said way louder than necessary.

Connie started signing again and Rick translated. “She says she’d be happy to spend time teaching Daryl history when he’s ready.”

Before Merle could respond, Kelly’s fingers caught his eye. He looked to Rick for translation, but he brushed Merle off. “That wasn’t meant for you. It was meant for Connie,” Rick said dismissively. As the two girls turned their attention back to Daryl, Merle leaned over Rick. 

“Hey man, you know we’re both nosy as hell. Tell me what she said!”

Rick laughed and shook his head. “Kelly was just accusing Connie of having a crush on him.” There was something in the way Rick sounded, the way his words fell like soft mist on a rainy morning, his eyes showing just enough rejection that Merle could read it. He wasn’t stupid. And unlike Daryl, he wasn’t blind or deaf. He’d known Rick had been falling for his brother the past couple months. And he was glad that Rick had enough ethics and morals to know how wrong it would be to start a relationship with a student. Plus the fact that Dixon’s don’t come in gay. Of that Merle was certain. He looked back over at Daryl, who was all smiles and speaking in letters with Connie. Hell, first a job. And who knows? Maybe he’d get married one day. Have some kids. Hell, at this point, Merle felt certain his kid brother could do any damn thing he put his mind to.

He walked back to his seat beside Carol, trying not to think about how Daryl ran his fingers through Rick’s hair when they were hanging out in the living room. 

“Everything okay?” she asked. She had to have seen the name on his phone, but the thing about Carol? She wasn’t going to sling accusations or hit him with a high heel just because he knew people she didn’t. 

“Everything’s...actually pretty cool,” he said and he leaned in to give her a long, slow kiss. 

“Didn’t peg you for a PDA guy,” Carol said, blushing.

“I’m going to give you such a good life, Carol,” Merle said softly, feeling uncharacteristically sentimental. He was going to make sure everyone had a good life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A job? Holy crap!
> 
> Connie having a crush on Daryl? Holy crap!
> 
> Merle getting phone calls from Andrea? Holy crap!
> 
> Sneak preview of Next Chapter.... Holy Crap!


	21. It Just Happened

Somehow it just happened. Merle stopped doing every other night with Daryl, and Rick started sharing the bed every night. He even moved his suitcases from the living room to the bedroom and slept straight through the night without leaving. It should be weird. Sleeping together every night, often close, with hands stroking locks of hair or arms draped loosely over chests. As much as Daryl wanted his independence, like finally riding the horse alone now and working each day, he didn’t seem to demand that in the evenings. 

He never once implied in any way, shape, or form that he didn’t want Rick in his room anymore. In fact, their evenings were a special private time for them where they could discuss the happenings of the day, review lessons like the modified sign language they’d been learning, and gossip about their growing group of friends. 

They sat next to each other on the bed, their backs against the headboard as they practiced recognizing words with Daryl placing his hand against Rick’s lips and jaw. He was soaking it up like he soaked up everything. 

Rick would say a sentence and Daryl would translate it in palm writing as he tried to silently move his lips and jaw in the same way Rick did. There was just something about the way Daryl moved his lips. Such deliberate movements, so much concentration. It had been a miracle all this time that Rick had kept himself from kissing those lips. Though touch was very much needed in their daily communication, he always tried to keep it more educational and comforting than anything more.

With Daryl now working a few hours a day alone, Rick wasn’t able to keep up with everyone he met and everything he learned, even though the younger man shared much of it when he got home from work each day. He was meeting people who had more in common with him. People coming to find seeing-eye dogs. Specifically _women_ coming to find seeing-eye dogs. Every new contact Daryl made excited him and he’d animatedly tell Rick all about their conversations. Several included obvious flirtations from women that Daryl didn’t seem to recognize for what they were.

… _This is my favorite part of the day._ Daryl signed, then put his fingers against Rick’s jaw and lips to “hear” his response.

“Why’s that?”

… _Things that happen don’t feel real until I tell you about them. And I like when it’s just us._

In a few months, Rick would be back home and teaching at the college all day. And the thought of it sickened him. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Daryl. He was going to have to start preparing him for the fact that life wasn’t going to be like this between the two of them forever. It was only a matter of months before Rick would be sleeping alone in his own bed, buried in grading papers and planning lectures. It used to be something he loved and looked forward to. But things had changed. He didn’t want to teach more to people who already knew a lot. He wanted to teach this man, who had nothing, knew nothing until Rick started guiding him. He wanted to do this forever and he felt a pang in his belly and his heart from just the thought of missing Daryl.

“Everything is real, Daryl. When I’m not here every day, everything that happens will still be real. It will still be yours.”

Daryl’s face dropped, his lips forming a profound pout, eyebrows furrowed in a combination of confusion and anger.

… _“Where are you going?”_

“I’m going to have to go back to work in a few months.”

Daryl sat there looking like a kicked puppy as he bit at his lower lip and stroked Blue’s head.

… _Please don’t leave me._ Daryl finally wrote into Rick’s palm after long minutes of being lost in his own thoughts. The pressure of his finger was lighter than normal, almost hesitant, timid. 

Rick took the younger man’s hand and placed it against his lips and jaw. “I’ll never leave you completely, Daryl. I just won’t be here every single day. I’ll always be your teacher...your friend. I’ll come back every weekend and...” Rick stopped talking as Daryl moved the positioning of his hand so that it was just his thumb lightly brushing Rick’s lower lip.

Rick was speechless, frozen. The soft expression on Daryl’s face spoke of a profound fondness and Rick couldn’t take his eyes away from the younger man’s parted lips.

Minutes passed by. Minutes that should have been awkward but were anything but. Minutes where their heartbeats sped up to the same pace and the silence between them spoke more than any words could have. The shared affection between them was palpable. 

Eventually the silence and the profoundness of the moment started to make Blue feel like a third wheel and he whimpered then moved from Daryl’s side to the foot of the bed.

Daryl brought his other hand to Rick’s face, sifting fingers through the older man’s curls. Rick should move. He should stop what was happening. It wasn’t right. It was taking advantage. Daryl didn’t know what he wanted yet. He hadn’t met enough new people. He was still learning about life and love and wants and needs. He was Rick’s _student_. He should move. He should pull Daryl’s hand out of his hair. But he couldn’t move. He was hypnotized by Daryl’s features, the thoughts that were visible on the lines in his forehead and the wrinkle of his brow. The way he licked his parted lips and bit at the bottom one until it slowly slipped out of his teeth.

Daryl leaned forward, eyelashes fluttering shut as his soft lips brushed against Rick’s then he held steady, their lips just centimeters apart, the younger man clearly waiting for approval, permission for more.

Rick’s mind had become void of reasons why not and instead a flood of yes and more and need and want drove him as he pressed his parted lips gently back to Daryl’s, giving him permission to take what he wanted.

Rick put both hands up to Daryl’s face, stroking fingers through his hair as they kissed. Both were timid and unsure at first, but once Rick heard Daryl groan against his lips, he leaned in closer and kissed deeper. Hearing Daryl’s soft sighs and moans as he plucked kisses to the younger man’s lips had him melting and before he knew it Daryl was pulling him down to the bed, pushing his body against Rick’s as they kissed, a tangle of legs and Daryl’s soft hand reading Rick’s hip like braille, slow and hesitant like he was afraid of the words he would find there. 

Rick slid his tongue into Daryl’s mouth and was rewarded with a satisfied groan and a tightening of Daryl’s hand on the older man’s hip. Before long, Daryl was copying Rick’s movements, licking into the other man’s warm mouth, exploring, learning to kiss the way he learned everything -- from Rick's guidance.

The older man took Daryl’s hand and pressed it against his cheek. “Daryl,” he said between kisses.

Daryl pulled back so Rick could read his lips. “No words,” Daryl mouthed and Rick was helpless to do anything other than obey. He hadn’t felt the flutter of butterflies in his belly since he was a teenager. Daryl’s gentle caresses felt like angel wings against his skin, and when he slipped one of his hands under Rick’s shirt, the warmth of it against the older man’s back, the searing heat of it made Rick gasp and whimper Daryl’s name again.

Suddenly there was a bang, loud enough that even Daryl noticed the vibration of it and Merle’s voice was outside their room. Rick could hear him muttering to himself about chairs not being pushed in and then the sound of the freezer being opened. Rick was sure that it was a combination of Merle’s occasional late night cravings for mint chocolate chip ice cream and his lazy stupidity of leaving the lights off as he walked through the house.

Daryl put his hand against Rick’s cheek to listen.

“Merle. Stubbed his toe on a chair I think. Ice cream.”

Daryl smiled and laughed. Rick took both of the younger man’s hands in his and kissed at his knuckles. They had to stop this now. Daryl reached out and put a hand against Rick’s jaw. “Sleep,” Rick whispered. 

Daryl took the older man’s hand and pressed a finger to his palm as if he was going to write something. He held it there for an eternity and then decided against it, copying Rick’s motions by taking both his hands and kissing them. Rick thought he’d never find sleep. Between the thrill of kissing Daryl and the worry about it being improper, he was certain his mind would spin in circles all night long. But once he closed his eyes and focused on Daryl’s breaths as they evened out into sleep, the older man fell fast asleep as well.

*******************************  
By the time the rooster crowed and Rick opened his eyes, Daryl had already been awake for a while, his fingers lightly twisting into Rick’s slept-on curls. Rick took Daryl’s hand in his own and squeezed it and the younger man smiled instantly. It crushed Rick already to say what he had to say. Using the quicker method of ASL against Daryl’s hands, Rick started to explain.

“We shouldn’t be kissing. Merle wouldn’t like it.”

“Who cares what Merle likes?”

Rick laughed and squeezed Daryl’s hand again.

“It’s not just that. You are young. You are just meeting people and you haven’t had a chance to explore or discover what you really like.”

“I really like you,” Daryl signed, his sweet lips in a pout.

“I know you think you do…”

Daryl swatted at Rick’s fingers and started signing back. “Don’t tell me what to think! You tell me the words. _I_ tell me what to think!” The signing and expression on Daryl’s face were both fierce.

“I’m sorry,” Rick signed against Daryl’s palm. “I just worry that I might be taking advantage of you.”

Before Daryl could respond Rick heard a loud belch by the bedroom door.

“You homos up yet?” Merle hollered.

“Merle,” Rick signed, and then stood up and pulled on his jeans. Daryl stayed in his bed with his arms crossed. 

“You coming?” Rick signed into the younger Dixon’s hands.

Daryl shook his head firmly no. “I am angry.” he signed.

Blue wiggled next to the cracked open door, obviously eager to relieve himself, so Rick left the room and followed Blue to the screen door, opening it up and stepping outside to watch him search for a good place to pee.

Merle came out with two cups of coffee, handing one to Rick.

“Got an idea,” Merle said proudly.

“Yeah?” Rick asked, his heart not really into the conversation.

“Hershel said Mags is coming home in a few weeks and bringing the new boyfriend. Said they’d handle things on the farm for a few days so’s we could take Daryl on that vacation we talked about.”

Rick cocked his head in interest. “Yeah, I think he could definitely use a little diversion.”

“I’m thinking a few days at the beach. You, me, Daryl, Carol, and Blue. He ain’t never been ‘round an ocean. Know water ain’t his favorite thing but I think he’d like the smell of the sea air and vibrations of the waves, walking in the sand. You know, all that gay shit.”

“I think he’ll…”

Before he could finish his sentence the screen door cracked open and Daryl stormed out. Out of habit Rick reached out for his shoulder to let the other man know where he was and Daryl immediately shoved hard at Rick’s chest, the coffee splashing all over the older man’s pants.

“Oh shit!” Merle laughed. “You pissed someone off! What you do? Steal all the covers?”

Daryl grabbed Merle’s hand and started writing.

“What’s he saying?” Rick asked as Merle murmured mmhmm’s.

“Well, he says you are a jerk and he doesn’t need you to teach him no more. And he wants me to call Connie for him and see if she can give him some history lessons like she offered.”

Merle started writing back.

“What are you saying,” Rick asked, clearly aggravated. 

“Trying to find out what you did.”

Rick huffed and called for Blue.

“Shit. He said it’s personal,” Merle pouted then looked at Rick with a smile. “Did you fart in bed? Cause he hates that, y’know, with his strong sense of smell….”

“Shut up, Merle,” Rick whined as he headed back inside to change his coffee soaked pants. Apparently, hell hath no fury like a Dixon scorned.

Merle took Daryl and Blue to Connie’s place that afternoon. And Rick spent most of the time staring at a computer screen without actually reading anything.

Merle spent most of the afternoon flipping through channels on the TV until he finally clicked it off. “You hurt his feelings,” he finally said, no longer trying to joke about it.

Rick shrugged. “He may have taken something I said the wrong way.”

Merle looked Rick up and down. “You encourage it. Don’t you hurt him.”

“Encourage what?” Rick asked.

“Rick, you know I ain’t as dumb as I appear. You been...flirtin’...with him and he’s been crushing on you like a high school girl on the quarterback of the football team.”

“No,” Rick tried to say, but Merle interrupted him.

“Don’t you lie to me, Rick. You’re not good at it,” Merle said, his voice still gruff with disappointment. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yes, of course and I would never…”

“You’re his _teacher_ ,” Merle said.

“I know. I know and I told him that…”

“You love him back,” Merle said flatly, unequivocally. 

Rick didn’t answer for long quiet minutes. “I’ll stop.”

“You can’t, Rick, and neither can he. Already blind and deaf and now he’s gonna be a queer, too.”

Rick’s heart broke at the words. It was the first time one of his slurs actually hurt.

Merle took a deep breath and sat up in his chair. “I’m sorry. I just...I just don’t want him hurt, Rick.”

“I wouldn’t ever…”

“You DID hurt him. Why’s he so pissed at you this morning, huh?”

“He...we...kissed. Last night,” Rick said, his eyes ashamed and on Merle’s feet.

“He start it?” Merle asked calmly. 

Rick nodded.

Merle nodded and thought, bouncing a knee. “And you let it go on?”

“Just for a few minutes, then we heard you out here and I stopped it and we just fell asleep. There was nothing else…”

Merle leaned forward. “Why’d you stop it?”

“I mean, Jesus, Merle. A million reasons. I’m terrified of taking advantage of him, he hasn’t had enough life experience to decide what he really wants yet. I’m his _teacher_. It would be disrespectful to you.”

Merle stood, not meeting Rick’s eyes. “I know there ain’t no way to turn off feelin’s. But you need to slow down. Both of you. This little spat ain’t gonna squash my plans for a vacation. I’m counting on you to talk to him and smooth this over when he gets home.” The older Dixon headed to the kitchen. Without looking back he added, “I’ll tell him the same thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	22. A Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting so late today!

It was almost midnight before Connie dropped Daryl back off at the house and Rick immediately jumped up when he heard the car and headed outside. Daryl stormed into the house without noticing Rick’s presence. After watching the younger man slam the door behind him, Rick walked over to Connie’s car and leaned against the open window. 

“He okay?”

Connie smiled and nodded.

“What did you teach him? I just feel like I should know since I’ve been handling most of his education.”

“Just some American history. Plymouth Rock, the gold rush, Civil War basics.”

Rick nodded. “He talk about anything else? He’s...he’s been a little moody.”

Connie’s knowing smile answered his question before she even started signing.

“He’s young and confused and eager and curious. He’s just got a lot going on in that head of his. He’ll be okay,” she signed.

It was a vague answer, but he figured Daryl needed someone to confide in and he probably told Connie not to tell him anything. And as much as it frustrated him, he knew Daryl deserved his privacy. Being everything to Daryl was what got them in this mess in the first place, so Rick recognized that he had to pull back a bit, let Daryl spend more time in the evenings just talking with Merle instead of Rick always monopolizing his time. 

After he thanked his colleague and went into the house, he saw Daryl and Merle talking on the couch, so he went back to Daryl’s room, got under the covers, and quickly fell asleep. He woke briefly when Daryl and Blue climbed into bed, Daryl curling up as far away from Rick as he could. 

******************************************  
Merle flipped a pan up and tossed a pancake in the air. Rick had to assume he had every intention of catching it, but the pancake landed at his feet, right next to Blue.

The dog, who was smarter than some people, had learned to wait and be patient for the okay. Merle looked down at him. “Whoops,” he said, not very convincingly. “Go on, Blue. You can have it.” 

Rick took a sip of his coffee then said, “You know, you can just feed him if you want to. You don’t need to put on this big show of ‘accidently’ dropping food.”

“I don’t want to feed him. Me and him are enemies. I drop shit. You know that.”

“I also know that when I came back from Aaron’s last week you were asleep in front of the TV with Blue’s head on your lap.”

Merle pretended he didn’t hear it and sat the platter down on the table with the pancakes that he managed not to drop. He plopped down in his chair, reached out for Daryl’s hand, and started writing. He was using the letter writing as Rick still hadn’t gotten around to teaching him very much of the new modified sign language they’d started using.

“What are you saying?” Rick asked with his mouth full, an unfortunate habit that he’d picked up from the elder Dixon.

“Telling him about how nosy you are,” Merle replied at first. Then he looked over at Rick. “Telling him about our vacation.”

Rick watched Daryl absorb all the information and then the younger man turned to Rick so he could easily sign his response. 

“It’s unprofessional for a teacher and student to go on vacation together,” he signed as he attempted to land a glare on Rick.

“He excited?” Merle asked.

“He is,” Rick lied, knowing that he’d have to pull Daryl aside after breakfast and have a long conversation with him.

The rest of the breakfast conversation was about Boardwalk Fries, Fisher’s Popcorn, steamed crabs, and saltwater taffy. Merle seemed to forget that there would be an ocean and a beach and a boardwalk. His stomach had apparently made these vacation plans. 

When Merle went out to work the farm after they ate, Daryl grabbed a book and planted himself on the couch. After Rick cleaned up the dishes, he walked into the living room and signed into Daryl’s hands “Let’s take a walk and talk, okay?”

Daryl rolled his eyes and put his book aside. With a dramatic sigh of inconvenience he clipped on Blue’s leash and the three of them walked out the door. It was a nice day outside and Rick knew how much Daryl liked the feel of the sun on his face. He figured chatting outside might put the other man in more reasonable spirits. 

They walked quietly towards the wooded area across from the fields and sat down at the base of a big oak tree, Blue plopped down happily in the sun. He seemed to enjoy it as much as Daryl did. They didn’t speak right away, just sat together under the bright sky, the wind tickling Rick’s too-long curls against his neck. The feel of it made him remember Daryl’s fingers and he looked over to watch as the younger man stroked Blue’s head.

What would he even say? Should he tell Daryl that it was a mistake? That he didn’t have feelings for him? That he had no interest in exploring this further? That the feel of Daryl’s soft whimpers didn’t make his body feel alive for the first time in forever?

After long minutes of thoughts, Rick finally took Daryl’s hands and started signing into them.

“I love you,” he said.

Daryl’s face contorted in confusion, clearly not expecting the words.

“I do, Daryl. I love you and I think you know that. I’m not saying we can’t _ever_ do that again...kiss. I’m saying it’s too soon for me to be comfortable that you are...ready. I want you to have the opportunity to explore the world on your own, as your own person. Learn more about yourself and what you want.”

“I kissed Connie,” Daryl responded and Rick was about as shocked at the other man’s words as Daryl had been at his.

It was like a stab in the heart and Rick assumed that was exactly how it was intended. It was meant to hurt. And it did.

“She’s a lovely person,” Rick signed. Daryl sat waiting for Rick to say more, but when he didn’t, the younger man started signing again.

“I didn’t like it. I didn’t _feel_ it like I do with you. Her skin was too soft and too cold. And she didn’t have the connection that I feel with you. Her body didn't talk to mine the way yours does. I couldn’t _see_ her the way I see you.” He paused for a moment then finished. “I love you, too. I know you don’t believe I can feel love yet. But I do. I know what it is and I know what it means and I know how I feel.”

Rick smiled and relaxed, not even realizing how frozen he’d been when Daryl started talking about kissing Connie.

“I’m not going anywhere, Daryl. We will be spending time together all the time like normal. But let’s just hold off on exploring anything further right now. We both need time for that, okay?”

Daryl eventually nodded even though he still wore a bit of a pout.

“Are you excited about our vacation?” Rick asked, trying to change the heavy conversation with something lighter. 

Daryl’s shoulders seemed to relax at the change in topic. He’d been on defense from the moment they’d sat down.

“Merle said there’s water but I don’t have to go in it.”

“Nope, you don’t.” Rick confirmed. “But there’s plenty to feel and smell and experience by getting away from your comfort zone. I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” Daryl signed back.

“I’m not. We just need time, you and I, right? Do you understand?”

“I understand, Rick. I’m sorry if I acted childish. It probably didn’t help my case.”

Rick laughed and Blue jumped up, tail wagging, and licked his cheek. Blue was always aware of the mood around him and he seemed almost as relieved as Rick was that the conversation was done but the subject wasn’t completely closed. Maybe Blue felt that same quiet hope that sat patiently in Rick’s belly. Rick would wait. He would give it time to grow even stronger, make sure it was right. What he felt for Daryl was bigger than the expanse of the ocean and something that wide and true simply couldn’t be rushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Thursday...Vacation!


	23. A Good Damn Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agghhh! I’m late posting! Vacation had all my days mixed up! I’m so sorry!!

A month later, Rick, Daryl, Merle, Carol, and Blue were all in the car heading to the beach. Merle was, of course, driving because he always won that battle with Rick. The windows were down, the weather was perfect, the sky was clear, and the most beautiful woman he’d ever met was by his side. It was a good damn day.

Merle glanced over at Carol who was looking out the window with a smile. He loved that smile. He had never been in so deep before. 

In the rearview mirror he could see Rick and Daryl using the new modified sign language to talk to one another over Blue, who was curled up with his head on Daryl’s lap. Merle and Carol had actually been learning the sign language, too. Rick really was a good teacher and both of them were picking it up quickly. But looking at them reversed in the mirror, he wasn’t able to catch any of the words. 

“What do you think they're talking about back there?” Merle asked Carol.

She turned around and watched their hands for a few moments. “Something about the ocean, and I caught the words salt and night.”

“Is it getting easier to eavesdrop up there?” Rick asked once he caught sight of Carol studying them closely. 

“What’s this one?” Carol asked, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t doing exactly that. She put her fists together and wiggled both thumbs just like Rick had.

In the rearview mirror, Merle saw Rick glance over at him guiltily.

“Uh...that one means romantic. I was just trying to explain why people like to go to the beach. I wasn’t…”

“Rick. Stop talking,” Merle said and Rick went silent.

Carol laughed in that breezy way she had. This effortless laugh that was probably something she hadn’t had throughout her hard life, but Merle was so glad, so lucky, that he was able to give it to her now.

She whispered quietly to Merle so Rick wouldn’t hear. “Yeah, I think you’re right. He’s in deep. I haven’t seen a look that guilty since the O.J. Simpson trial.”

“I just worry about what would happen if…”

“Merle,” Carol said quietly. “There’s nothing anyone can do to control love. You never know when it’s going to happen, how it’s going to strike. It’s wildly unpredictable. And it’s nothing you can rationalize yourself out of.”

Merle nodded. He could certainly understand that. The last thing on his mind when he was having a ball removed was finding love, but there it was. And with that thought he realized it. He didn’t just like Carol. He didn’t just like her _a lot_. He _loved_ her, was _in_ love with her. Maybe they could take a romantic walk on the beach that night and talk. He thought maybe she should know a thing like that.

“How do you think Daryl feels about it?” Merle asked, voice low and trying to keep the subject on his brother and Rick. “I haven’t been able to get him to talk about Rick with me. He always changes the subject.”

Carol laughed quietly. They were still keeping their voices low. “I _know_ how Daryl feels about it.”

Merle glanced over at her with a grin. “And how do you know that?”

“Daryl and I talk about all kinds of stuff. And no, I’m not going to tell you what all we discuss.”

Merle huffed. He loved that Carol had her own relationship with his little brother but, damnit, he hated not knowing stuff. 

By the time they got to their rental it was nine at night and they decided to wait until the next day to hit the beach. Instead, they ordered a pizza and chatted. While Carol went to take a shower to wash off after the long car ride and Rick opened his laptop to check his emails, Merle and Daryl headed out the porch and sat together. 

“Do you smell the salt in the air?” Merle asked him.

“Is that what that is?” Their conversations now were a cross between letters written on palms and the modified sign language as Merle was still getting up to speed on ASL.

“Yes, the ocean. It’s salt water.”

They were quiet for a moment after that, Daryl just feeling the new sensations of being somewhere different.

“So, you like Carol?” Merle asked.

Daryl turned to him, already nodding enthusiastically. “I think she’s great. You two are like a beautiful love story.”

Merle rolled his eyes. Ever since the younger Dixon read _Romeo and Juliet_ , he’d been obsessed with love stories.

“I’ve been ummm…thinking about something.” Merle said. “And I might need some advice.”

Merle watched Daryl’s face change at the words. It was hard to describe the look. It was as if he suddenly realized he was a whole person, a real person that might have thoughts or knowledge that someone else might want to hear.

“What is it?” Daryl asked, enthusiastically. 

“Well, it’s been almost six months now with Carol and I know it seems fast but at the same time it seems like I’ve known her my whole life. Does that make sense?”

Daryl nodded instantly.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about telling her I love her cause I ain’t done that yet even though I’m sure she knows it.”

“She would love to hear it from you, Merle,” Daryl signed firmly, all words that Merle could understand in the ASL the younger man was using.

Merle bit his lip with a nod that he knew Daryl wouldn’t be able to see. “There’s more, though,” he added. Daryl didn’t push. He waited patiently until Merle was ready to talk again.

“I want to marry her. I want to ask her and I don’t want to wait for years and years because I know now that she’s all I will ever want. So...do you think it’s too soon? Would you be okay if we got married and she lived with us?”

Daryl smiled so wide that Merle pretty much knew already what his answer would be. The younger Dixon grabbed his hand and started to use the awkward mix of written letters and ASL to respond. 

“Yes! Ask her, Merle!! I’m sure she’ll say yes! I know she will and yes, I would love to have her with us. This is so romantic! Will you ask her on the beach?”

Merle felt a flood of relief at his brother's support and encouragement. 

“Thanks, kiddo,” Merle said. “I think I will. Maybe tomorrow night. And don’t go runnin’ your mouth to Rick. If she says no I don’t want to be humiliated in front of everyone.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Daryl responded. Then he bumped shoulders with his older brother and signed, “She won’t say no.”

Merle leaned back in his chair and smiled at the starry night above.

When he crawled into bed with Carol that night things were different. Their love-making had been so much more than Merle had ever experienced before. There seemed to be so much more to it, his heart was in it as much as his dick was, and that hadn’t happened with anyone else ever. 

But that night when he kissed her, when he ran his rough hands over her soft, smooth skin, there was something more electric. This was a woman he wanted to _marry_. A woman he would kill or die for, and when she was writhing on top of him, she looked like an angel in the moonlight -- pale skin, pleasure written all over her face as she moved. Soft, sweet features, and eyes that saw him like no one else ever had. 

When his head fell back and his body started edging towards his climax, he felt like there was nothing else in the world but that moment, and when he came and heard Carol’s soft whines from her own orgasm, he said it without thinking. 

“I love you, Carol.” 

She rolled off of him and tucked herself against his side, one hand against his cheek as she gave him a long, slow kiss. “I love you, too,” she whispered as if it were a secret.

Merle’s heart burst with joy. And he felt complete and happier than he had ever been in his entire life. As they lay there cuddled together, legs and arms intertwined, he fell asleep, the smile never once leaving his face.

He woke the next morning to the sound of his phone buzzing. He rolled over but Carol was gone. The beach house smelled like bacon so he knew she was in the kitchen trying to impress him with his favorite food on earth. 

Groggily, he grabbed for his phone and saw the name. Andrea Harrison. God, he thought. Should he tell Carol about this? What if she got mad and was disappointed in him. Would it keep her from saying yes?

He clicked the answer button and held the phone to his ear. “Hi, Andrea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I wrote my first het sex scene! Lol!


	24. Testing the Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another round of applause to LOTR58 for the idea on this fic and for the beta job! Thank you so much, my friend!
> 
> Okay- Good news and good news! The good news is that I'm going to be super busy tomorrow so I'm posting this chapter tonight. And the other good news...
> 
> This fic has been extended to 30 chapters now. 
> 
> Enjoy your day on the beach.

Rick was a little disappointed at Daryl’s boardwalk experience. It was clear he was uncomfortable with all the people walking by and several times he accidently knocked into them even though he had Blue on one side of him and Rick gripping his hand on the other. Despite that, though, he at least seemed to enjoy the smells. The different foods, the smell of salt water and suntan lotion permeating the air as they walked. It was too crowded to stop for conversation, though, which was disappointing.

Merle and Carol walked ahead of them, their hands intertwined, walking close and giggling as they talked. To Rick it looked like neither of them even noticed they were _on_ the boardwalk. All they noticed was one another. There was undeniable energy between them and even after all these months their relationship sparked like new love. He was glad for Merle. Rick suspected Merle would miss him as much as Rick would miss them when he had to move back home. Carol was good for him. Actually, he thought, she was perfect.

After their not-to-successful walk on the boardwalk, Merle and Carol took off by themselves to visit some of the shops, leaving Rick and Daryl to themselves.

“I think you’ll like the beach better than the boardwalk,” Rick signed. “Want to take Blue and lie out in the sun a while?” The older man knew how much Daryl liked to feel the sun on his face.

“Okay. Don’t let me fall in the water, though,” Daryl responded.

“Never. I’ll have tight hold of you and we’ll just get close enough for you to sense the crash of the waves. You’ll be able to imagine how big the ocean is when you feel it. And then we’ll just lie down on blankets on the sand and feel the sun warm on our skin.”

“That sounds nice.” Daryl smiled back more confidently as he rubbed Blue’s big blocky head in his lap. They both dressed in bathing trunks -- Rick’s pair that he’d had since forever and a new pair Merle had bought for the younger Dixon.

It wasn’t until they were walking out the door with their blanket that Rick realized how hard it was going to be to not just stare at Daryl’s firm body as he lay in the sun. Broad shoulders, that narrow waist, a farmer’s tan, and pale white legs that had never seen the light of day, since the younger man lived in jeans.

Daryl’s first step into the sand was a joy to watch. Regardless of being deaf and blind, Daryl had an amazing ability to communicate precisely how he was feeling through his facial expressions and the way he breathed.

The younger man looked towards his foot with an intake of breath and curious brows, then squatted down to run his hands through the sand. Blue wagged his tail excitedly as he watched his owner’s intrigue. 

“That’s sand,” Rick signed, thrilled to see Daryl smiling at the feel of it as a fistfull ran through his fingers. “It’s as far as the eye can see in both directions.”

As they walked towards an open spot, Daryl explored more with his feet, prodding at the sand and wiggling his feet into it. Rick dropped the blankets and signed. “Here’s a good spot for us to lay everything out. Do you want to get closer to the ocean first?”

Daryl nodded hesitantly and gripped Blue’s leash tighter as if the only reason he would do it was for Rick. It wasn’t that Rick wanted to torture the guy, he just really felt like it would be so powerful and Daryl would be able “see” its grandeur by feeling the vibrations.

Grabbing his hand tighter than normal, Rick led them through a couple groups of sunbathers and sandcastle builders to the edge of the water. Blue looked at each sandcastle with interest as they made their way through. 

Rick watched as the younger man took notice of the ground, feeling the difference against his feet as the dry sinking sand became smooth and hard. They stopped before the rise of the water and just stood, Daryl looking around even though he couldn’t see. Rick imagined he was feeling a bit of the water spray, the sun on his skin, the wind, and the vibrating rumble of the crashing waves. Blue playfully got down on his front paws with his ass end in the air and barked at the waves as if he was threatening them not to hurt Daryl or he’d bark them to death.

Rick looked back up and saw how the younger man’s face was concentrating on everything that he was taking in with his limited senses. He looked absolutely fascinated. 

“Where is the water?” Daryl signed. “Can I just put a toe in?”

After Rick explained how the waves worked and how they would feel it sloshing against their legs, they walked into the water that creeped up onto the beach, Daryl holding Rick’s hand so tight the older man wondered if it would bruise.

Jumping back a bit at the first splash, Rick was surprised to see Daryl giggle. 

“You okay?” Rick signed.

“Tickles.” Daryl responded as he stuck one foot out further, still grounding himself with the grip he had on Rick and the leash he held.

Rick stood by patiently as Daryl experienced the moment, clearly thinking through all the feelings and smells. “What’s the biggest word for big?” Daryl finally asked.

Rick looked towards the horizon, where the ocean met the sky. “Vast,” Rick finger spelled to him, then showed him the ASL sign for the word.

“Vast,” Daryl repeated and then he backed up, signalling to Rick that he was ready to go lie in the sun.

Back at their spot, Rick pulled out the sunscreen. “Your skin is too pale from your t-shirt and jeans. Put on this sunscreen so you don’t get a sunburn. It hurts like hell,” Rick instructed. Daryl complied like a student eager to please a favorite teacher, which the older man was sad to admit was exactly the case, and the reason why he shouldn’t be staring drop-jawed as Daryl rubbed the creamy lotion up and down his strong arms and over his broad chest. After he finished coating his legs, he turned to Rick and signed, “Back?”

Blue finally sat down right in front of him, staring at Rick as if to say, “Well, what are you going to do now, sucker?”

Rick’s mouth went dry and he licked at his lips as he took the bottle from Daryl, and ran a hand down his back to indicate his intention. The younger man turned so that his back faced Rick completely. For a moment Rick couldn’t move. He just had to take a moment to catch his breath as his gaze ran from Daryl’s shaggy hair, dirty brown with golden highlights from the sun, over strong, broad shoulders and finally down his scarred back to his tailbone. He squeezed out a dollop of lotion and rubbed it into his hands, then pressed them slowly against Daryl’s back. Rick thought he detected a bit of a shiver from the other man and grinned despite himself, knowing he shouldn’t be pleased at leading Daryl on about something that he was still afraid to let happen.

But Rick was in vacation mode and for some reason he gave himself time to linger as he rubbed the sunscreen into Daryl’s back, hands squeezing into the muscles of the other man’s shoulders and pressing into his blades with the palms of his hands. Rick could feel the steady exhale of the other man and when his fingertips brushed against Daryl’s arm as his hands moved, he noticed goosebumps despite the warmth of the cloudless sunshine.

It was lost time again as Rick let his hands explore Daryl’s neck, down his sides, massaging over every muscle. It could have been five minutes, it could have been twenty, but neither of them made an effort to end the moment.

It wasn’t until Rick rested his hands to a stop at the sides of Daryl’s lower back that the other man turned around, feeling along the blanket for the bottle of lotion. He signed for Rick to turn around. Rick hadn’t given a return of the favor a thought and once he realized what was going to happen, his belly fluttered with a kaleidoscope of butterflies and he felt the desire for more already dancing in his head. He took a deep breath, glared at Blue with a “don’t judge me” look, and then felt the first press of Daryl’s hand against his shoulders. He sighed into it. Daryl’s hands were warm and firm, confident, as they roamed over his back, fingers pressing along the contours of his muscles. A whimper escaped his lips as he let his eyes fall shut. The slow migration of the other man’s hands along his neck and shoulders indicated that he had every intention of going on for endless minutes as well. His touch felt like curiosity and exploration, and Rick’s imagination flickered like an old-time picture show with things he wanted to see. Daryl asleep in bed with the sheet kicked off, boxers riding low so that his hip bone and the start of his happy trail were exposed. Daryl’s face slack in pleasure, lips parted and breaths fast and hard. Daryl’s body against his own, writhing, wanting. Then he thought back to their actual kiss, playing it in slow motion in his head.

By the time Daryl had worked his way down to Rick’s lower back, the older man was hard as a rock and blushing with shame. 

“Thank you,” Rick signed. “Let’s lie down a while.”

After a few minutes of neither of them moving, Daryl finally patted Blue on the head and laid back against the blanket, the sunshine already sparkling against his flesh, a pleasant smile on his face as he looked toward the sun, feeling it’s heat embrace him.

Rick looked down to his still slightly hard crotch and opted to lie on his stomach in light of so many nearby families and prying eyes. He faced Daryl, watching over him as the other man laid so contentedly, absently running his fingers lightly against his own abs.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, a shadow blocked the sun from his skin and he heard Merle’s raspy above him. “Sun bathing. Kinda gay so that tracks for you, but why are you trying to cook my brother, too?”

Rick opened his eyes as Carol sat down beside him. 

“You know he likes the feeling of the sun,” Rick snipped. “This whole thing was your idea anyway.”

“No need to pout like a sullen child, Grimes,” Merle said with a laugh as he placed a hand on Daryl’s shoulder to let him know he was there. A smile played on Rick’s face as he watched Daryl excitedly start telling his brother what he thought so far of the ocean and the beach. Blue’s tail started wagging as Daryl started his animated signing.

“He’s having a good time,” Carol said softly to Rick.

“He is,” Rick smiled. “You are too, I can tell.”

Carol blushed crimson at the comment and glanced over at Merle. 

“You really like him,” Rick said with a smile.

“I love him,” Carol said with a childlike grin. “And he told me he loves me last night and I wasn’t really sure, but when I heard it, it was like I never should have doubted. I can feel it radiate off him.”

“Daryl’s been right,” Rick said. “He keeps saying you two are like a beautiful love story.”

Carol giggled at that, looking more like 18 than 28.

Rick looked over to Merle and watched the man communicating with his brother so enthusiastically. After much thought, Rick said, “I can see why someone would fall in love with Merle. Dixons seem to have a certain charm.”

Carol smiled knowingly and then ran a finger down his back, holding it up for him as she asked. “So how did this lotion get on your back, Romeo?”

Rick grabbed her hand and held it down to the blanket, trying to hide the evidence. 

“It was platonic. And practical,” Rick insisted.

Carol looked out at the water, squinting in the sunlight. “I don’t think Merle and I are the only beautiful love story around here.”

“I’m his teacher,” Rick said, an argument he was used to having with himself.

“You’re his friend.”

“He hasn’t seen enough of the world…”

“Look around you, Rick. You are _showing_ him the world.”

“This trip was Merle’s idea,” Rick said in more of a defeated pout than he intended.

“But you are the one that held his hand and walked him to the edge of the world to feel the waves at his feet.”

After a few more minutes of watching as Merle brought a bucket of water over and started showing Daryl how to make sand castles, Rick continued.

“His world is still so small. He hasn’t experienced enough... _people_.”

Carol answered instantly. “Me, Maggie, Beth, Hershel, Connie, Kelly, Eric, Aaron, Jesus, Shane…”

Rick shook his head as he interrupted. “He’s just...he’s so young.”

“He’s a man, Rick,” Carol corrected. “And so are you.”

“And Merle would kill me if I took advantage…”

“None of this has to do with Merle. You are your own man and so is Daryl. You know Merle as well as I do. He might threaten to kick your ass if you move things to another level with Daryl, but when he sees how happy his kid brother is, he’ll forget.”

Rick shrugged and turned back to watch as Blue smashed the sandcastle with his front paws and then hopped eagerly into Daryl’s lap, licking at his face. Merle caught Rick’s eye and nodded, a look that he had hoped was the start of acceptance. Carol was right. What Rick tried to convince himself was a little crush early on had grown like wild flowers into something way more sacred and precious. Maybe it was time to be a little more open to the idea of dipping his toe in. Testing the waters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More beach time ahead!


	25. Why Would Someone Eat This?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trip to the beach is complete without Crabs for dinner!

Rick was right. He usually was, though Merle hated to admit it. Walking on the beach at night _was_ romantic. The crowds were gone. The waves sounded less hectic at night for some reason. Almost lulling. He and Carol held hands as they walked along the beach, their bare feet leaving impressions in the wet sand as they went.

“He’s having such a good time,” Carol said.

Merle nodded with a smile. “I don’t know if Rick mentioned it to you, but this trip was my idea,” Merle bragged.

“He did. And it was a good one.”

“It’s so different with him now, y’know? Before..before there were just nods and touches. He’d find a rock in the dirt and I’d pat him on the back and tell him it was a nice rock. Now he’s digging through the sand and asking all kinds of questions. _Why are the rocks at home so sharp and the ones here are so smooth? How did this shell get here? What’s the difference between a shell and a rock? What’s the difference between that shell and this shell?_ ” Merle laughed and shook his head. “Gonna need to get a degree in geology ‘f he gets any smarter.”

Carol laughed that sweet little laugh of hers and they walked on in a comfortable silence. With Daryl, Merle had always felt the need to talk to himself even though he wasn’t being heard. The silence just always seemed so deafening. But with Carol, being close and being quiet seemed okay. In fact, it seemed nice. 

Eventually Carol spoke again. “So, Rick is going back home in another month,” she said. “How do you think Daryl’s gonna handle that?”

Merle sighed heavily. He had been worrying about that transition and realizing how close it was filled him with anxiety. “Well, Rick’s putting this schedule together for him. He’ll still work with him on basic communication. Kelly and Connie are going to each teach him a couple hours a week. History and Sociology. Shane’s offered him more hours at the training center. He’ll be plenty busy and still learning. And there might be...there might be more I can do that will help.”

Carol glanced over to him. “That’s not exactly what I was talking about.”

Merle nodded. “I know. I know what you meant. Rick’s been sleeping in his room for months now. We ain’t never weaned him off that. So I’m a little worried about that. Still breaks my heart to think the kid was living in fear all those years wondering when our old man was gonna show back up and attack him.”

Carol didn’t respond, just listened. It was a way she had of making Merle talk more.

“He’s got Blue. And now that he don’t have them tantrums and I can trust him, maybe I’ll put the lock back on his door so he can lock it at night and feel comforted that no one will come in.”

“Yeah. Maybe it won’t be too bad.”

“I know what you’re really getting at,” Merle finally admitted. “Heartbreak.”

Carol nodded with an understanding smile. “Yeah. He’s so smitten. They both are.”

“You think I’m wrong about not wanting them getting romantic,” Merle said. It wasn’t a question. He already knew the answer.

“I know your heart’s in the right place,” Carol answered. “I just...sometimes I think of how much I love you and the thought of someone trying to keep us apart...it just hurts.”

Merle stopped walking, pulled her close, and kissed her. He never used to be much of a kisser, not that he’d had that many girlfriends in the past. But kissing always seemed so much more intimate than even sex was and he’d never felt that desire to be so close with anyone until Carol.

She kissed back, her hands wrapping around Merle’s waist and her body pressed tight to his, and he responded the same way, pulling her even closer. When he had her in his arms like this, he never wanted to let her go. He wanted her forever. And as the kiss softened and their lips parted, Merle sank to his knees before her.

Looking up at her in the moonlight, she looked like a miracle, stars from the sky reflected in her dark eyes as her expression looked both curious and cautious. 

“Carol. I know you done been married before and it weren’t no good. So I’ll understand if you need to say no and I’ll hope you’ll still stay with me. But I don’t need no more time to know you’re the one. I know it now. I want to protect you, I want to love you, I want to be with you every day. I ain’t got no ring yet but I’ll get you one real soon. Will you...will you marry me?”

He watched her face, looking up at her as her glassy eyes started to leak and she knelt down with him and took his face in her gentle hands. “There’s nothing I’d want more in the world than to be with you forever. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

That night the four of them (and Blue) went out to eat at a popular crab place to celebrate. Daryl was ecstatic at the news of the engagement. Rick had been thrilled, but also surprised, which Merle liked. It meant Daryl kept his secret--even from Rick. Hell, he hadn’t been sure it would be possible for the kid to do it the way he seemed to be so connected to the teacher. They practically shared a brain. 

They got a table in the screened-in back deck facing the water, Daryl and Blue both appearing overwhelmed by the smells at first, each of them with noses in the air trying to pick up on all the unique and unfamiliar scents. 

He pulled out a chair for Carol because he’d seen it on TV and it seemed to work, because her already bright smile got even bigger. 

“Thank you, Mr, Romantic,” she said, batting her eyelashes. 

“You’re welcome, soon-to-be Mrs. Dixon. He knew it was pretty gay when he said it and by the time his eyes caught Rick’s, the other man was already saying, “You know, I have to tell you...that was pretty gay.”

“Well, how about you stop leaving that Shakespeare shit laying around the house?” Merle growled defensively. 

Rick blinked in shock. “Did you...did you _read Romeo and Juliet_?” he asked, reaching over for Daryl’s hands to fill him in on the conversation. 

“Oh my God,” Carol said, already able to read his response as if they’d been together for a dozen years. “I love you so much, Merle,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

After their order was placed, the chatter seemed so… _normal_. Yeah, there was a bit of delay with Daryl’s communication, having to use their hands to talk back and forth, but it was becoming so easy and so routine. Life had changed dramatically for both Dixons over the past year. In ways Merle could have never possibly imagined.

The server set down a dozen hot crabs over the paper-covered table and left a couple baskets, one with fried chicken, another with corn on the cob. Daryl had insisted he wanted to drink a beer with this meal even though he was never a fan and Merle knew it was because he had given this whole soliloquy about beer and crabs being like a grown-up’s peanut butter and jelly -- no reason to have one without the other. 

His first sips were followed by grimaces, but he waved off everyone’s offer to get him a soda instead. It was like dinner and a movie for Merle and Carol as they plowed through eating crab after crab while watching Rick try his damnedest to teach Daryl how to open one and eat it.

They were a trainwreck. Rick would sign against Daryl’s hand and they’d both end up getting covered in Old Bay and crab slime. Hell, in Merle’s opinion, half the joy of eating crabs was getting filthy doing it.

Watching his brother’s face pretty much told him everything he needed to know about the younger Dixon’s opinion on crabs. He caught several words from Daryl’s filthy hands: _disgusting, not worth it, what am I touching, why would someone eat this?_ Rick tried to guide Daryl’s hands to help him open the crab, fling out the entrails, and pick out the meat. Daryl grimaced at each new piece of crab innards that his fingers touched. After every bite of the crabmeat, Daryl grabbed for a paper towel and unsuccessfully tried to clean off his hands, at one point, giving up and letting Blue lick them clean first before wiping off the dog slobber on his pants. 

“This is the worst idea ever,” Daryl signed to the table. Merle passed the fried chicken over to Rick. “He tried,” Merle laughed. “Better give him some chicken so he don’t starve to death.”

When Daryl’s hands picked up a chicken leg, he wiped his still crabby hands through his hair in relief, then froze when he realized he pretty much smashed the stuff into his hair. Luckily, as Daryl had been learning and becoming his own man, it turned out he had a hell of a sense of humor. He laughed at himself and smashed his fingers into crab gunk so when he signed to the table animatedly the crab guts flew at everyone’s face. 

“I think I have some in my underwear and in my socks,” Daryl signed, Rick translating the ASL that Merle and Carol didn’t know.

“We gonna have to scrub him down before we let him back in the house,” Merle said with a bark of laughter right before a piece of crab entrail flew off Daryl’s finger and smacked him in the forehead. Carol, who’d been laughing non-stop, plucked it off his forehead. 

“We may all need one,” she laughed as she threw the crab guts at Rick where they landed with a splat in his curls. 

“I think that looks good on you,” Merle laughed, pointing at Rick with a crab leg.

“I think I have a piece of shell in my ear,” Rick said as he reached out to steady the beer that Daryl was reaching for before it fell over. 

“I don’t think this experience is gonna make him like beer,” Rick said before he started signing the observation to Daryl. 

“I never thought I’d say this,” Daryl signed at the table. “ But I think I’m actually looking forward to taking a bath right now.”

Merle laughed so hard a perfectly good piece of crab meat flew out of his mouth and hit Daryl in the nose. 

Glancing down at Blue below the table, covered with shell shards and Old Bay, Merle added. “We’re gonna have to hose down the dog, too.”

Blue looked up and shook his head as if to decline the offer, a few pieces of crab shell flinging off him with the movement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooooooo....Next chapter- Evening on the beach with Rick and Daryl. That's all I'm saying.


	26. The Expanse of the Dark, Twinkling Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy TWD Day everyone! What a fortuitous day for this chapter to drop. I'm a little nervous about whether this will live up to expectation, but here it is. Some stuff. A few thangs.

“Want to see what the beach is like at night?” Rick signed after he rubbed his hair dry with a towel. He, Daryl, and Blue were finally cleaned up from dinner and with the news of the engagement Rick thought it would be good bro code to give the newly engaged couple some privacy.

“As long as you don’t let me step on a crab. I’ve had enough,” Daryl responded with a smile before he knelt down to hook the nearby leash to Blue’s collar. Rick grabbed the blanket they had used earlier, thinking maybe after the walk they could lie down on the sand and he could watch the starry night sky and describe the beauty and enormity of it to Daryl.

Describing things to Daryl was like making something three-dimensional and neon that had once been flat and grey. He was already thinking of other places to bring the younger man -- to lakes and mountains, on boats and planes. There was so much more to show him. So much more for him to experience.

They walked along the water for a long time, quiet, peaceful, the feeling of being completely in sync with another person as their footsteps matched pace. Blue was on Daryl’s other side, protecting him from the splash of water at their toes, barking if it came closer than the dog was comfortable with. He was fiercely protective of his master and knowing he’d be there with Daryl after he had to leave gave him at least a small bit of comfort.

After a while Rick tugged Daryl’s hand and they found a spot on the empty beach to spread out the blanket and lie down, Rick looking at the sky as Daryl rubbed Blue’s head which had come to rest on the younger man’s chest. After a few minutes Rick’s eyes fell from the sky to watch Daryl. He was so much more than the vastness of the ocean or the expanse of the dark, twinkling sky above. Blue eventually lifted his head off Daryl's chest once he knew his master was safe, comfortable, and clearly staying for a while and he curled up nearby in the sand, his eyes drowsy as he tried to keep them open to watch the ocean. 

Rick reached for Daryl’s hands so they could talk and they turned toward one another like they did when they talked before they went to sleep at night.

“The moon is out. It sparkles on the water. Lots of stars all around us like a dome. Like we are on the inside of a snow globe.”

Rick wondered how it was that Daryl imagined descriptions of things like that. He’d been blind and deaf all his life so he had no visuals to compare anything to in his head, but he always seemed to nod in understanding at the pictures Rick was able to paint with his words.

“The waves seem less chaotic at night,” Daryl signed. “More peaceful.”

Hell, Rick didn’t even know Daryl had learned the word chaotic. He was learning so damn fast. Faster even than Rick could keep up with.

“Well, all the crowds are gone,” he responded. “You could probably sense the buzz of everyone around us yesterday when we were out here. It’s definitely more peaceful now.”

Daryl grabbed Rick’s hand as if he was going to spell into it the old way, but instead he just played with Rick’s fingers, sliding his thumb softly over Rick’s knuckles.

“I wish we could be here forever,” Daryl eventually signed. “I like the feeling, the sensations I get from the beach and the water. The vastness. And I like how you _are_ here.”

Rick looked at Daryl, confused. “How _am_ I here?”

Daryl sighed heavily as he thought about how exactly to answer the question.   
“Relaxed. Not afraid to touch me like you are at home.”

“I touch you at home,” Rick signed.

Daryl smiled and shook his head. “Not like you did with the lotion,” he signed, then resting his forehead on Rick’s hand, a sign of complete supplication and surrender. “I love you,” Daryl finally signed. “Not the way that I love Merle. The way that Merle loves Carol.”

Rick sat up on one elbow and looked down at the younger man below him, brushing his windblown hair back behind his ear, his eyes fixed like a laser beam on Daryl’s parted lips. He felt the familiar tingles, the shiver he always got when he and Daryl started having an accidental moment of deep sincerity. He pulled Daryl’s hand to his face so he’d understand when he spoke.

“I love you too, Daryl,” Rick said, because anything other than that simply wouldn’t be true. Because he meant it the first time he said it and he meant it even more now. The younger man bit at his bottom lip, patiently waiting for Rick to make the first move. His expression was determined and his mind seemed to be spinning in circles behind those ocean blue eyes of his.

“I like the way your hands feel on me when you touch me just because you want to. Not to communicate or guide me, but just to...just to feel me.” Daryl signed. 

The breeze blew Daryl’s t-shirt so that a sliver of his belly was visible and Rick took it as an invitation, sliding his fingers under the shirt until his full hand was moving slowly over the younger man’s belly and up to his chest. Daryl’s nipple was a hard nub and his breathing changed in a way Rick had never noticed before. It was as if he was trying to keep himself calm, taking deep, steady, purposeful breaths. And Rick could read the meaning in it. He could always read Daryl. He wanted more. Wanted Rick. Wanted skin against skin. And Rick was absolutely unable to deny him any longer as he continued to brush his fingers against Daryl’s side.

The younger man sat up, pulled off his shirt, and laid back down, his attention completely on Rick, almost daring him to touch more, to _feel_ more. His fists were clenching and unclenching the blanket beneath them and the in and out of his breaths were hypnotic like a metronome. In, out. In, out. And the ocean filled Rick’s ears with the sound of the waves lapping at the shore. In, out. In, out.

The older man let his fingers brush over Daryl’s stomach again, lighty tracing his side and up to his neck until his hand sifted into Daryl’s windblown hair.

“Do you like to feel me?” Daryl signed. It seemed innocent and overtly sexual all at the same time and Rick wondered when this man became so strong and confident and _sexy_. 

“I do,” Rick responded.

“Taste me,” Daryl signed as he laid there and licked his lips, his eyes aimed in Rick’s direction, his hand coming to rest on Rick’s upper thigh.

Rick didn’t know if it was an offer or a command, but either way, he could no longer ignore what was between them. He leaned down over the younger man and pressed his lips to Daryl’s, who eagerly returned the kiss, leaning up for more of Rick until he was finally sitting upright and pressing Rick back down against the blanket. One of his hands felt its way from Rick’s shoulder, along his side, settling on his hip, the other trying to pull the other man’s shirt off. 

Between the two of them, they managed to remove it and Rick glanced around. They were alone. The stars the only witnesses and the surf the only sound. To have Daryl like this, under a perfect night sky, his skin golden brown from the sun, was like a mixture of a daydream and a fairytale. 

Eyes fluttering shut, his body afire along the path that Daryl’s hand just traveled, Rick leaned up, deepening the kiss, pulling the younger man closer with a warm palm to his neck and then wrapping his arms around him until their bodies were pressed together -- Daryl on top taking surprising control of the kiss. Rick could feel Daryl’s length harden against him and he was certain Daryl would feel the same from him. 

Their mouths worked together, tasting, exploring, taking refuge in one another. Rick could feel the strength of Daryl’s devotion as if it was solid stone. The fact that Daryl was on top of him, leading the dance of skin pressed to skin turned Rick on more than he could have imagined. Daryl was in charge of this. Daryl’s hands roamed Rick’s skin, pulled him close, his hand against Rick’s cheek as they devoured one another, mouths hungry and eager. The heat of Daryl’s body against the cool evening breeze felt like a stark light in the darkness. Rick thought he might lose himself when he heard the first needy whimper fall from the younger man’s lips, feeling his deep breaths as their bodies melted together, grinding, writhing, Daryl over him, confident, commanding, beautiful, sensual.

His body moved slow and purposeful, lifting up a bit then pressing back into Rick as his lips moved down to Rick’s neck.

“God, Daryl,” Rick whispered and he held his hands to the younger man’s hips to still him as Rick rocked up against him, gasping and moaning.

Finally, he rolled Daryl over and the younger man’s head fell back into the sand as he arched off the blanket, all gasps and deep breaths and low groans. Rick rutting against him as the volcano inside him began to boil and spill.

“Rick,” Daryl mouthed without the actual words. And watching his mouth and lips form his name as they both chased after their climax, bodies moving frantically against one another, breaths gasping, Rick finally moaned out as he felt himself explode and even though his eyes were closed, he saw stars. Only seconds later he watched Daryl’s face as the younger man finally stopped rutting, moaned low and long, and gulped down shuddering breaths, the look of sheer wonder on his face. Rick held him close as the other man shivered in his arms. He never wanted to let go. But without pulling apart, they couldn’t speak so he rolled off of Daryl to lie beside him and rested his head on the younger man’s chest. 

Eventually Daryl signed, “I want you to belong to me.” 

“I already do,” Rick responded. “You have my heart, Daryl.” He took the other man’s hand and held it over his chest, hoping the heartbeats would speak for themselves. And they fell asleep together under the big sky as the waves crashed on shore and Blue snored softly beside them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope, hope, hoping that this lived up to the hype. Still another handful of chapters to go!


	27. Not a Kid Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. It's short. I'm sorry. :-(

He should have known better, but after their shower Merle suggested another stroll on the beach. He’d seen that Rick and Daryl were gone and he should have guessed where they were. 

When Carol stopped in her tracks and Merle followed her line of sight, he saw them. A tangle of arms and legs on the beach, Daryl’s head resting on Rick’s chest, the older man’s steady snore, and Blue asleep beside them.

“They can’t fight it anymore,” Carol whispered.

Merle rubbed at his forehead. “I know. I know.” He looked at his brother’s slack face, peaceful and sated. His nose wasn’t as good as his brother’s, but even Merle could smell sex in the air. The fact was, Daryl wasn’t a deaf, dumb, and blind kid anymore. He was a man. An intelligent man who read Shakespeare and could put together a braille Rubix Cube in under half an hour. Granted, Merle had read that one Shakespeare book, but he couldn’t put that cube together even though he had eyes to see it and ears to hear Rick yelling at him that he was doing it wrong. Daryl could think for himself. He could understand emotions and relationships. And he loved Rick. And really...Merle just wanted his little brother to be happy. 

He kicked at Rick’s foot and when the other man opened his eyes, Merle grumbled “Temps are gonna drop, man. You guys need to get inside.”

He could read the guilt on Rick’s face when the other man realized the way he and Daryl had been tangled together, and before he could start to make excuses, Merle spoke firmly.

“Rick. It’s okay, man. It is what it is and as long as he’s happy,” Merle sighed deeply as Carol beamed with happiness beside him. “Then I’m happy.”

Rick broke into a huge smile, nodded and ran a hand over Daryl’s arm to wake him. “All I want to do is make him happy,” Rick said.

“I know that,” Merle admitted as he reached down to help his now-awake baby brother to his feet. “But if you break his heart, you’ll understand if I have to kill you, right?”

“Completely,” Rick said with a firm nod. “I’ll help you murder me myself.” He grabbed Daryl’s hand and squeezed. 

“Why don’t you and Carol head on back,” Merle said he put a hand on Daryl’s arm to stop him from walking back towards their rental. 

Rick nodded and held out his arm for Carol to loop her own arm through. “My lady,” Rick said jokingly. He was clearly on cloud nine due to Merle’s acceptance. 

“You look weird with a woman on your arm, Grimes. Guess it’s a good thing you’re gay.”

Rick laughed. And it seemed like such an open, free laugh that Merle quickly realized how hard Rick had been trying not to act on his desire for Daryl. He’d been so focused on it that he hadn’t been able to relax and let his hair down in months. 

Merle squeezed Daryl’s shoulder in a way that meant “sit down” and the younger Dixon sat, looking concerned at the thought of how Merle must have found them.

He started to sign but before he could even make the first word, Merle put his hands over his brother’s to keep him from talking. 

“Me first,” Merle signed into his hand. 

Daryl nodded and bit at his lip. 

“You’re not a kid anymore,” Merle signed. “You’re a man. A smart one who understands a lot now. Gonna end up smarter than me with all the teaching that lies ahead for you. But I need to make sure you understand how committing to a relationship works.”

“I know relationships,” Daryl signed. “I’ve read a hundred romance novels.”

“That’s exactly why you don’t know relationships, kiddo. Love stories are just that. Stories. They aren’t real. When you love someone things aren’t always gonna be sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes you have disagreements, arguments. Rick might baby you too much one day and you’ll get annoyed or frustrated. Or he might fart in bed and I know how much you hate that.” Merle was pleased with the way his younger brother was listening intently instead of trying to brush it all off and claim how those things would never happen. 

“He might get mad at you sometimes. Maybe he’ll get pissed cause you don’t tell him where you’re going one day and he worries about you like a mama hen. And, Daryl. Sometimes relationships don’t work out and hearts can get broken. I don’t want to see either of you hurting. But we all need to know that it might happen and I just need you to understand that love is a risk.”

“I do understand that, Merle. And it’s a risk I’m willing to take. I want to have everything Rick is willing to give me for as long as he’s willing to give it. Being blind and deaf doesn’t make me any different than anyone else as far as understanding love is a risk. Rick is like a beautiful lake. And some spots are deep and some are shallow. Some have sharp shards of rock and some soft sand. And I’m willing to risk the dive in. I am.”

Merle pulled him close, kissed him on the side of the head, and gave him a noogie. “I love you, little brother.”

“Love you, too, Merle. Thank you.”

Merle didn’t ask what the thanks was for. He wasn’t a rocket scientist, but he knew enough to understand that sometimes thank-you’s were a blanket acknowledgement. 

As they stood to leave and Daryl shook out the blanket, Blue looked up at Merle with a knowing look as if he too was pleased at the conversation. And he probably was. Damn silent Ninja could read minds. Merle had never been so sure of it until now.

That next morning they drove home and Merle was so sad to see it all end. He knew Rick’s time was almost up at the house and his heart broke for Daryl. Hell, Merle was gonna miss Rick himself. But he had plans. He had irons in the fire. And things were starting to fall into place just like he’d been dreaming about for months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are closing in on the ending guys! Only a few more chapters to go!


	28. If Money is no Object

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another round of applause for my friend and beta LOTR58! This fic wouldn't exist without her.

Rick felt like a teenager. Every time he sat down on the couch with Daryl for lessons they ended in make-out sessions. Kissing Daryl was so much more...all-encompassing...than it ever was with others. There were words and emotions that Daryl was communicating every time their lips met, every time his hand ran slowly down Rick’s arm, every time Daryl’s breath hitched when Rick was kissing and nibbling at his neck. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’m just trying to eat without vomiting,” Merle announced as he sat down in his recliner with a microwaved burrito. 

Rick pulled back and signed something to Daryl.

“You can eat burritos in the living room once Rick is gone. I only have a few more weeks!” Daryl signed before he threw a pillow in Merle’s general direction and accidently hit the dog.

Blue, thinking it as a game, brought the pillow back to Daryl who seemed to be seriously considering attempting another throw. 

“Why don’t you let Daryl have a few hours without your tongue down his throat. Need ya to come with me to the mall,” Merle said with his mouth full of the last bite of burrito.

“You need me to go to the _mall_ with you?” Rick asked. “What are we, twelve-year-old girls?”

“Well, you might be, Grimes. But I’m a guy that just proposed without a ring so’s I need to get to some a’ them jewelry stores and pick out something fancy, so I need your advice as a homo. Y’all have good taste on that kinda shit.”

“Um. Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Merle replied as Rick started to sign into Daryl’s hands. He left the younger man with homework and was already missing him like crazy before he and Merle were even in the car.

The older Dixon seemed to be in a more-than-usual good mood as they walked into the Alexandria Gate Mall. He almost seemed to be floating rather than walking, the smile never leaving his face as he talked about how much fun their vacation had been.

Leaning over the glass counter, Merle asked the salesman to take out every single ring so that he could look closely at each one and shove it under Rick’s nose to get his input. 

“What’s your price range?” Rick whispered quietly as the salesman put one of the rings back. “Some of these are outrageously high.”

“We’re gonna play a game, Grimes. We’re going to pretend money isn’t an object right now.”

At the second jewelry store Merle did the same thing, looking at every single ring and getting the “homo input” on each one. Rick was surprised. The rings Merle gravitated to were beautiful. Classy and very Carol. He was torn between an oval sapphire that was circled with diamonds and a teardrop diamond with two smaller teardrops on either side.

“Which one, Grimes?”

Rick turned over each of the boxes and looked at the prices. One was $5,400 and the other was $14,000. 

“Um, I like that one,” Rick said as he pointed back into the glass case at a perfectly good single tear drop diamond that was a little over $2,000.

“That one looks like I ain’t even trying, Rick. This is the woman I _love_.”

“How are you going to pay for this, Merle?” Rick said under his breath. “Carol loves you. She’s not the kinda woman that really cares about this ring.”

Merle turned to Rick with a giant smile. “Well I care. This one with the sapphire is like the ocean I proposed at. This is the one I want,” he said as he pushed the ring to the sales person. 

“Merle, It’s fourteen grand,” Rick whispered loud enough for the salesman to glare at him.

“Rick. There’s something I ain’t mentioned yet.”

“What’s that?” Rick asked.

“I’m a millionaire.”  
***********************************

Rick gnawed on a fry at the food court as he listened to Merle excitedly telling his story as if he would burst if he had to keep it under wraps even a second longer.

“So’s when I ran into her I tell her ‘bout how I died right?”

“Yeah. Worst minute and forty-seven seconds of my life,” Rick said with sarcasm so thick he could practically dip his fries in it.

“So’s her eyes get big and it’s like they got dollar signs in ‘em like a cartoon. And she says she wants to represent me in a wrongful death suit. No charge unless I win,” Merle said, shrugging his shoulders and taking a bite of a Taco Bell burrito. (According to him, the earlier store-bought burrito didn’t actually count as a _real_ burrito so it wasn’t weird to have two in the same day.)

“So you won?” Rick asked, still not sure he could possibly believe it.

“1.25, brother.”

“1.25 _Million_?” Rick asked, now sitting up straighter and taking the other man much more seriously.

Merle ran his chunky fingers across his phone then turned it to Rick, showing him his bank balance. 

“Was just put in my account this week. Didn’t want to say nothing to nobody cause I didn’t want to get anyone's hopes up. ‘S official now.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rick said as he stared at the phone. “Do you even _know_ how to spend this kinda money...other than the ring? I mean, you admitted the other day that you prefer bologna over filet mignon.”

“Got all kinda plans, Grimes. And the first thing on my list is…you’re fired.”

Rick finally tore his gaze off the phone and looked back to Merle. “You just fired me?”

“Yeah. Fired.”

“I don’t work for you, Merle.”

“Semantics,” Merle said. “You ain’t Daryl’s teacher no more. You’re his boyfriend until you ain’t and I kill you for breaking his heart.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you aren’t ever gonna have a reason to kill me.”

“That _is_ unfortunate, Grimes. It’s not as bad as you think. I mean last time I died I made 1.25 million dollars.”

“I can still teach him,” Rick said as Merle put a hand up to stop him.

“Already planned and taken care of, Rick. I hired Connie. Full-time. Got her under contract for the next three years. She thinks she can have him ready to ace the entrance exam at your college by then. When he does enter your college…he will NOT be allowed to take your class, you got me? I ain’t gonna have my door banged down with reporters from _60 minutes_ because you two created some kind of salacious sex scandal at the school.

“Since when do you use words like semantics and salacious?” 

“Maybe Daryl ain’t the only Dixon tryna be smarter. I want to be a good conversationalist for Carol. I ain’t just a piece of meat y’know.”

Rick smiled and shook his head. Merle Dixon would likely never stop surprising him for as long as he lived.

“Anyways - I’m buying me and Carol a house in the Hilltop Estates, which is about equal distance between your college and Hershel’s farm.”

“Aren’t you gonna quit?” Rick asked puzzled.

“Nah. I’ll get bored. ‘Sides, Hershel’s done a lot for me all these years so now I’m gonna pay him back by workin’ for free.”

Rick had to admit, he wasn’t surprised to hear that Merle wanted to keep working. He never once complained about his job and Rick certainly couldn’t picture him eating caviar on a luxury cruise line and placing $50,000 dollar bets on on-line poker or whatever it was millionaires did all day long. 

“Gonna pay you back, too. For what you done for Daryl.”

“There was no charge for that,” Rick insisted. “I get paid plenty to live off of at the college. The only thing I want to ask of you...is if Daryl can move in with me. I mean, y’know, if I ask him and he wants to.”

Merle didn’t seem remotely surprised at the request. “He can. And you and I both know it’s not up to me anyways. But I would like it if you’d humor me with one thing.”

“Anything, Merle,” Rick said with a smile. 

Accept my downpayment on a house for the two of you in the same neighborhood that me and Carol’s gonna live in. I...I...can’t have my brother that far away, Rick. I need him to be able to get to me immediately if he needs me.”

Rick held Merle’s sincere pleading gaze. He had no real interest in Merle’s money. He, much like Merle, wasn’t the type of guy that could just lie back and be a lazy millionaire. But the plea for his brother’s closeness, for the need to be within his reach, tugged at Rick’s heartstrings in a nearly painful way.

He nodded. “I think that would make Daryl really happy.” And it was then that he finally really thought about it. Him and Daryl. Together. Living together as a couple and not as a student and teacher. Without the scent of Merle’s microwaved burritos in the air. Rick would, of course, be teaching him things casually every day, just like Daryl would be teaching him. The younger man already seemed to know more about volcanoes and earthquakes than Rick could ever imagine because of his fascination with geology. He had almost as many books about geology as he had actual rocks in his collection.

“You haven’t told Carol or Daryl about this yet?” Rick asked, fairly certain of the answer. He’d been able to tell that the excitement in Merle’s story was the first time he’d let the cat out of the bag.

“No. I’m a little worried about Carol, though.”

“Why’s that?”

Merle sighed and crumbled up his burrito wrapper. “We had a conversation a while back. Talking about how we was both trying to make ends meet. She started talking about a friend she grew up with who married into money, big money, and Carol said she ain’t the same person no more. Said money changes people for the worst and it brings out the ugliness in them.”

Rick nodded in understanding. “She has a point there, actually. You never hear about a guy winning the lottery and then goes on to have a wonderful life. Every time it seems that their lives end up being ruined. Kinda like that Hurley guy from _Lost_.”

“You think she’ll be disappointed?” Merle asked.

“I think you’ll just have to figure out how to convince her otherwise. The fact you want to keep on working is probably a good thing. She’ll like that. And she’s in love with you, Merle. If money doesn’t matter to her then having it shouldn’t bother her any differently than not having it, right?”

“Yeah,” Merle said as he stared into space. “I mean maybe that friend of hers was just a bitch from the get-go and she didn’t notice right away.”

Rick laughed. “She loves you,” he said. “Stay true to yourself and she always will.”

Merle shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. I just...sometimes I worry that I’ll wake up and everything from the past year will disappear.”

Rick ate his last cold fry and smiled. “I guess that’s what it feels like when you get everything you ever wanted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there folks! Two more chapters.


	29. Spreading the News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to LOTR58 for the last minute beta'ing on these final chapters!!

Merle let Rick drive home from the mall so that he could sit in the passenger seat and keep opening and closing the ring box. Rick was probably right, goddamnit. Carol didn’t care about any fancy rings. He opened the box again and it sparkled in the sunlight through the windshield. It _was_ beautiful, though. And he didn’t have to tell her how much he spent on it. 

“Are you afraid it’s gonna disappear if you don’t keep checking on it?” Rick asked. Merle looked at him and gave him a hard eye-roll and the finger. He really was a good man, though--Rick. Daryl certainly could have done worse. It was strange how it didn’t even seem odd to see Rick and Daryl making out on the living room couch. He would have expected it to be one of those things that would make him queasy because, y’know - ew - two guys.

But it wasn’t like it was just any two guys. It was Daryl and Rick. And they were in love with one another. And they _fit_ in every way there was to fit with another person. He’d already known that Rick’s reaction to all the news would mostly be about getting Merle’s blessing on Daryl and him moving in together. And he was certain when Rick asked that Daryl would give an enthusiastic yes. Kid probably didn’t even care if Merle was nearby or not now that he had Rick. But it mattered to Merle.

The older Dixon got to Daryl first when they got home. 

“Lemme show him my ring first! You can give ‘im hickies later!” he yelled as he pushed past Rick to get to the sofa in the living room.

Daryl was already looking their way. They always slammed the door when they came or went so Daryl would feel the vibration.

Merle signed, “Feel this ring! It’s sparkly and pretty and Rick promised on his life that Carol would like it!”

Daryl felt the ring, ran his fingers over every part of it, smiling ear to ear. “She’ll love it,” he signed.

Rick sat on the coffee table facing them as Blue sat up from his midday nap, clearly on alert that there was a buzz of excitement in the air. 

“Also I have news, little brother,” Merle signed, speaking at the same time so Rick could hear him.

“So back when I had that surgery? Well, they messed something up and I could have died. And long story short, what they messed up was illegal and I won 1.25 million dollars in a lawsuit.”

Merle sat back to observe as Daryl absorbed the info. His face contorted as he scooted closer to Merle on the couch. 

“You could have _died_?” Daryl asked, his eyes already starting to spill water. 

“But I didn’t!” Merle said with a laugh and a noogie. “I”m okay, kiddo. I’m here.”

“I didn’t know it was...that scary. Were you scared?”

“Nah. Ain’t scared ‘a nothin’,” Merle said with his big wide smile.

“You actually are afraid of spiders,” Rick deadpanned.

Merle shivered at the mention of them without even denying it and turned back to Daryl.

“Did you miss the point about how I have 1.25 million dollars now?”

“How many thousands is that?” Daryl asked, trying to wrap his mind around the number.

“A lot,” Merle answered.

“What can you get with it?” the younger Dixon asked innocently.

“What can I get? Well, like houses and cars and shit.”

“But you have a house and a car,” Daryl replied.

Merle looked over at Rick. “I’m thinking he ain’t gonna be an economics major. And maybe you should steer clear of a joint checking account. Money ain’t his strong suit.”

Rick laughed and reached out his hands to communicate with Daryl.

“Merle doesn’t own this house. Hershel lets you guys live here.” Rick looked over to Merle for permission to continue and the older Dixon nodded his head.

“Merle wants to buy a house that will be halfway between here and my work.”

Daryl smiled and bit at his lip. “The closer the better,” Daryl said in that flirtatious way he had of batting his eyelashes and tilting his head.

“Actually,” Rick signed. “Actually, I was wondering if it would be okay if after Carol and Merle got married...if maybe you’d like to move in with me.”

Merle and Rick looked at each other and then both looked back at Daryl who seemed deep in thought, his face expressionless.

“I want to be with you, Rick. Always. I’m just wondering though...how far away will Merle be?” he asked as he put a hand on his brother’s knee.

Daryl’s words warmed Merle to the core. He’d always had a worry in the back of his head that Daryl eventually wouldn’t need him anymore. But there was Daryl, scooting closer to him on the couch and worrying about how close he would be before he’d allow himself to feel the joy of living with Rick.

“I ain’t lettin’ you get too far away, kiddo,” Merle signed to him. “Me and Carol and you guys is gonna buy houses in the same neighborhood. Right next door if we can find ‘em. I’ll always be here for you, Daryl. Always.”

“Good,” Daryl said, then he felt his way up to Merle’s head and gave his big brother a noogie.

Blue’s tail was wagging so hard Merle could feel the breeze of it. Shit. He was gonna kinda miss that dog always being under foot.

After Daryl reached down to hug the dog, he looked back to Rick. “I would love to live with you, Rick. Thank you for wanting me.”

That was Merle’s cue that there was gonna be a whole lot of tonsil hockey about to happen so he excused himself so he could go to Carol’s. He had plans to bring over a pizza and a six-pack of beer after she got off work. She thought pizza and beer was as romantic as Merle did. Yet another reason they were perfect for each other.

He changed into something more presentable, specifically picking out the blue shirt that Rick always recommended. When he passed the living room heading to the door, he saw Blue sitting by his recliner, giving Rick and Daryl room to have their little make-out session. He squatted down to pet the little guy. “They’re gonna be doing this a lot, buddy. Best get used to feeling like a third wheel.”

Blue looked up, put a paw on Merle’s knee and gave his cheek a lick as Merle looked at him deep in thought. “You know what, Blue? That’s a great idea. That’s exactly what I’ll do!”

He stood, his worries about how Carol might react to the money slowly fading away. He pressed a kiss to the top of Blue’s head after he made sure no one was looking. “Thank you, little buddy.”

******************************  
When he got to Carol’s he checked the ring box compulsively about four times before getting out of the car and bringing the pizza and beer to the door. 

She had it open before he’d hit the first step. 

“Been thinking about you all day,” she said as she held open the door. 

He couldn’t believe that soon enough he’d be able to come home to that sort of greeting every day.

After the beer and pizza and a steady stream of conversation, Merle leaned in to kiss her and moved to kneel down on his right knee. He pulled the ring box out of his pocket and held it up. “To make it official,” he said as he opened the box.

She covered her smile with her hand and gasped at the sight of it and Merle figured that had to be a good sign. 

“Merle! It’s beautiful,” she finally said. 

He slipped it onto her finger and she held it up to admire it. 

“I got some other news too, actually,” he said then he stood, took Carol’s hand and walked her out to the porch swing, helping her onto it before he joined her. “Remember that girl you was friends with and she ended up rich and how you said money changed her and you would rather be scraping to make ends meet instead ‘a being a rich asshole?”

Carol laughed. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, if I accidentally became rich, would you trust me not to become an asshole?”

“Oh, you became rich, did you?” she said with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Merle said without one. “I kinda agreed that I’d sue the hospital for wrongful death with the lawyer I had that did my will before my surgery.”

“Oh!” she said, surprised. “Well…” Merle started biting at a nail when she seemed at a loss for words.

“I think people can have a bit of money without being an asshole. Especially you. Maybe we can use it for a downpayment on a house.”

Merle nodded. “It’s more than a downpayment.”

Carol grew quiet and Merle felt a chill between them that made his belly feel like someone just died. 

“I...I got a plan for how not to become an asshole,” he said quietly.

“How much is it?” she finally asked.

“1.25.”

“ _Million!?_ ”

Merle stood up and paced as he talked. “I know. I know you’re worried like about how that Hurley guy on _Lost_ had his life ruined from getting rich, and your friend and stuff, but I have an idea on how not to let that happen! I talked to Blue and we have a plan.”

Carol’s shoulders finally relaxed a bit and she laughed that soft gentle laugh at the thought of Merle and Blue having a heart-to-heart. “Oh, you talked to Blue? Your arch rival? Your sworn enemy?”

“Well, we worked things out a while back, okay?” Merle said with a teasing pout.

“And what did Blue have to say?”

“Well, we can buy us a house and I already offered Rick and Daryl enough for a down payment to buy one next to us. I’d love to buy the whole thing for ‘em, but I know Rick wouldn’t accept it. I’m still gonna work for Hershel, but I ain’t gonna charge him no more, so I’ll just figure out how much to keep in savings so that we can live comfortably til we're like a hundred and five and then the rest I’m going to donate.”

“Donate?! That’s a fantastic idea!” Carol said excitedly as she hopped off the porch swing. “That’s way too much money to have to deal with. Too much just gets to be a headache, don’t you think? Do you know where you want to…”

“Walsh’s Training and Adoption Center. And a few other places Shane recommended, because this money is even too much for him. I stopped there on the way over. I don’t think he actually believes me yet, though.”

“I knew I was marrying the right man,” she said sweetly, then she quickly pivoted to her cute little gossipy voice. “Sooo...Rick and Daryl have your blessing!? They must be beside themselves!” And they walked back into the house chatting away like not a thing had changed between them and nothing ever would.

****************************  
“Rick?”

“Yeah?” Rick answered, recognizing Shane’s voice instantly. 

“You know anything about like...Merle coming into money?”

“Why?” Rick asked.

“Cause he just stopped over and gave me a check for half a million dollars. Soooo I’m thinking he must be driving drunk. You might want to track him down and bring him home.”

Rick looked down to Blue who he swore just winked at him. 

“A donation,” Rick said, shaking his head and laughing. That’s a great idea!”

He immediately signed the new information to Daryl who seemed more excited about that than he was about Merle getting the money in the first place. 

“The training course is falling apart!” he signed. “All that equipment can be replaced now and maybe Shane can buy that big open lot next to him and expand, and maybe we can figure out a way to hire pilots or drivers to bring the new pups to the people who need them! And we could hire more trainers and...”

Rick leaned back and watched Daryl sign all of his ideas. He loved to see Daryl like this. So excited. So happy. So...unencumbered. When they moved in together, Rick was going to make sure he was happy like this every single day. He already had ideas. They would work on a garden together. Daryl already loved digging in the dirt. They could grow vegetables and flowers and Rick would cut fresh flowers for Daryl every day so he’d know what day of the week it was. Gardenias for Mondays, roses for Tuesdays, and so on. They would have bookshelves. Tons of them so Daryl’s growing collection of braille books didn’t have to be piled up on the floor behind Merle’s recliner. They were going to go on neighborhood walks with Blue every evening and they were going to have Merle and Carol over for dinner every Saturday night. 

When Daryl finally wore himself out talking about all his ideas for Shane’s, Rick put a hand against his cheek and leaned close, pressing his lips to his lover’s lips, running his other hand up Daryl’s thigh. They kissed slow and deep and Daryl put his hand against Rick’s face in the place where he’d been learning to feel his words.

“I’m going to make you the happiest man on earth,” Rick whispered.

“I already am,” Daryl signed and then he stood and reached for Rick’s hand, pulling him playfully from the couch and steering him towards their bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's almost over! One final chapter coming to a computer screen near you in just a few days.


	30. One Year Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. Thank you all for coming along on this ride with me. I appreciate every single kudo and comment. (And I apologize I didn't keep up with responding to comments!) This story has been a great way for me to find some happiness during this crazy year and I hope it gave some happiness to all of you as well. Thanks again to my friend and beta, LOTR58 for making this story happen. 
> 
> Here it is... The Daryl chapter.

Daryl took off his glove and stuck his hand into the soft fallen snow. It was the first snow he’d ever experienced and he shrieked at the cold fluff against his bare hand, shaking it off, and shoving his fingers quickly back into his glove. He and Rick were on vacation up north, specifically because Rick wanted to teach him about snow and bundling up in blankets by the fireplace as the smell of the burning wood tangled with the sweet scent of hot chocolates.

He was excited to feel snow, to understand it, to experience real cold and the pleasure of getting warm again by going back inside and cuddling under a thick plush blanket. What he didn’t like about winter was how restricted they were with communication because gloves were too cumbersome to sign with. He would always have limitations. He knew that.

After they built a snowman, they sat on the couch of their rented cabin. Daryl could feel the heat of the fireplace before them, the scent of the white oak, thick and rich, the subtle aroma of vanilla. 

Connie was his permanent teacher at the moment and had been for the past year and he’d learned a lot from her. A lot of facts and figures and places...a lot of _things_. But Rick, who was now officially his boyfriend and very much _not_ his teacher, still taught him more about the abstract stuff. Like love and hope and promise and trust. And colors.

The color yellow was bright like the sun. It was surprising, like the taste of lemon. Brown smelled of freshly cut wood and earth and felt like the rough bark of tree limbs. Pink tasted like sugar and candy and felt like the soft silk of flower petals. Green felt like grass and leaves and it smelled fresh and alive...like summer. Purple was celebration. It smelled like violets and grape juice and it felt like the luxury of velvet against Daryl’s fingers. Red was the color of heat, of the flames that licked at the wood in front of them. Red was bold and brazen like the hot taste of chili peppers on his tongue. But Daryl’s favorite color was blue. Blue was the color of the ocean and the sky. It felt like the breeze against his skin and it smelled like fresh air, like peace and pleasure and serenity. It was like grace and hope and heaven. Like the feel of Rick’s blue eyes gazing on him, comfortable and whole. 

Daryl supposed he didn’t know enough about actually hearing or seeing, so he didn’t feel as cheated by his limitations as Rick and Merle probably thought he did. He was mostly thankful for what he did have. The smell of Rick’s soap-clean skin when he’d trail kisses down his chest. The taste of the fresh mint leaves from their garden. The rumble of Rick’s snores he could feel when he rested his head on the other man’s chest. The feel of his lover’s body against his own, skin against skin, and the feeling of becoming one. The way his heart beat -- powerful and strong when they kissed, and lulling and peaceful when they laid together after. 

Daryl knew he had an enhanced sense of smell and taste because he was shorted so many of his senses. But he often wondered if he also had an enhanced ability to love, because the way he gravitated to Rick’s affection, to his warmth and his words and his aura...it felt so strong and real it was almost solid. The way Daryl _felt_ Rick in his heart? It was all encompassing. It was vast like the ocean. It was deep and warm. He felt Rick running through his veins like blood.

Sometimes he worried. Worried that he wasn’t enough for Rick, that his limitations were cheating Rick out of being able to _talk_ with a lover, to be seen by them, to hold a loving gaze. But any time he’d expressed those concerns, Rick had a way of convincing him easily why he never once felt cheated at all. And it didn’t take signed words or for Daryl to rest his fingers over Rick’s lips and jaw to feel the words as he said them. All it took was Rick’s hands on his skin, the feel of strength in his arms as he held Daryl close. Rick always made Daryl feel loved and not just because he felt like he should or like he went out of his way to do it. He made Daryl feel loved simply because Rick loved him. And Daryl could feel that as sure as the ground beneath his feet. 

Their relationship grew and changed every day. There had been a time when Daryl was so innocent and pure. So dependent on Rick. But as they’d lived together and grown together, he’d learned that Rick could be the vulnerable one, that he could allow Daryl to be the one doing the heavy lifting. Like when Rick had fallen to his knees before Daryl, his head resting on his lover’s knee as he sobbed when his mother had passed. Sometimes Daryl was the rock. Like when Rick would grip his hand when a plane lifted off the tarmac or when a roller coaster crested the top of a hill as if he was trying to borrow the younger man’s strength and fearlessness. Daryl could know what Rick needed just by the feel of his slouch on the sofa after a long, hard day.

Rick had always worried about Daryl being _ready_ to love him. Being experienced enough. Worldly. Self-aware. And though Daryl had hated it at the beginning, he did understand. He had learned a lot about himself in the time that Rick insisted they give each other. He learned that love wasn’t always fun. Sometimes it hurt. Sometimes it was hard. But it was always, always worth it. 

As it turned out, Daryl made a great boyfriend. And not too bad of a brother, either. And soon he was going to make a great uncle. Merle and Carol lived only a few houses away so he could walk there with Blue and not even need to rely on anyone for a ride. He could “see” the room that was ready for his coming niece. All pink like candy and flower petals, decorated with stuffed dogs. One that looked like Blue and some that were actually pink and purple. There was a crib and a changing table and a rocker in the corner. And if you felt along the walls over the crib you could feel the letters that spelled out Sophia. She would be here any day now.

Merle and Carol had learned the modified sign language Daryl used, so sitting around talking about when the baby was going to come and how excited they were was easy. It was like...it was like he was real. He remembered not feeling real. It was only a couple years ago, but it seemed like a faraway time and a distant land. 

He’d had Merle. He always had Merle. But he had mostly just been a set of hands to guide him to the kitchen table, or give him a bath, or try to hug him when he was angry. He liked having Merle around him, but he didn’t really even know what the other man was to him in the cave days. He called them the cave days because Connie taught him about Plato and the _Allegory of the Cave_. And he learned. He learned that Merle was a brother, that pa was dead and that he didn’t have to be afraid anymore. He learned that he could control his tantrums by learning to communicate and by getting Blue. He learned how feelings worked, how touches felt, and how falling in love was the sweetest sensation he’d ever known. 

Daryl had lessons with Connie five mornings a week. He worked with Shane and the dogs each afternoon. But weekends and evenings...those were for Rick. Always for Rick. 

They walked Blue through the neighborhood every night. They stopped and talked to the neighbors as they went. Blue was always so happy on those walks, especially when they stopped to chat at the house on the corner, where a poodle named Juliet lived. 

They also spent evenings in their big backyard working on the garden they planted and tended to themselves. Daryl’s digging through dirt for rocks had made him quite good at working with the earth. It turned out that he had a green thumb.

At night when they went to bed, they communicated with their touches. Soft lips against strong muscles, fingers caressing thighs, foreheads touching as they breathed one another’s breaths. Rick said they had a better sex life than anyone else on the planet because they didn’t spend their evenings watching TV. And he’d always playfully tease Daryl for being insatiable. But Daryl couldn’t help it. Being physical with Rick made him feel so alive. Hearts thudding, gentle touches, Rick’s scent, and the sweet taste of his lips, the tangle of arms and legs.

He would never know what it was like to see or hear, but he would always know how to live and love. And really - wasn’t that the more important thing?

That night, after Rick fell asleep in his arms, Daryl made a decision. When he woke up in the morning, he would walk over to Merle’s and ask his big brother to come with him to the mall. He was going to buy something he’d need help picking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear from you all one last time! I hope you enjoyed the story and that it gave you some laughs and smiles when you needed them. This one is done, but you know me. I'm sure I'll be back with another before you know it. I still have several google docs open with half-written stories, a list of plot bunnies, and new things popping up in my head every day. Thank you all again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Posting schedule will be twice weekly. Since Covid, I don't really ever know what day of the week it actually is... so I'm just going to say twice a week. 
> 
> I haven't written a long fic in AGES, so I'm really hoping to hear what you guys think as we go! Feedback is greatly appreciated!


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